


Take Me Over

by fhartz91



Series: Take Me Over 'verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Anal Beads, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, BDSM, Biting, Bondage, Bottoming, Costume Kink, Crossdressing Kink, David Karofsky/Adam Crawford, Dirty Talk, Dom Kurt, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fan!Kurt, Future Fic, Kinks, Kissing, Light Sadism, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Niff, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Past!Seblaine, Praise Kink, Riding Crops, Rimming, Romance, Rutting, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Slut Shaming, Smut, Spanking, Sub Blaine, Top Drop, Topping, daddy!kurt, famous!blaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 221,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt's life isn't at all what he wanted. He is stuck in an unexpected relationship with his dreams almost permanently on hold and a job he took mostly out of desperation. But a trip to L.A. to get the autograph of his favorite television star might just change his entire life - but will it change for the better?</p><p>Dominatrix!Kurt<br/>Sub!Blaine<br/>Rating for smut, kinks, bondage, D/S situations, toys, and voyeurism. </p><p>*Author's note - I was a professional paid for hire Dominatrix. I worked at a club for years with Dom/mes who cross-dressed and called themselves by whatever label they identified with. I've worked with men who considered themselves Dominatrixes, and women who called themselves Dominators. THEY'RE JUST LABELS, GUYS! Yet, I occasionally have people who find the need to school me as to what is correct. You don't have to. It kind of makes me sad that in a time where we're fighting for people to have the right to identify however they choose, people think they need to correct me on this. If that's why you're here, please move along. Thanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this story is not what it seems...please keep that in mind. :)
> 
> Also, one of my characters who plays a big part is named Mia. I promise, this had nothing to do with Mia Swier. When I first started writing this story, I was really not in the know about Darren Criss, Chris Colfer, or anything regarding their personal lives. Mia happened to be the name of a girl who was a real thorn in my side during high school, as she was going after a guy I really liked, and eventually became his girlfriend. It was the first name I thought of when I started writing this, and I couldn't find another one I liked better.
> 
> Another thing, I feel like I'm constantly writing author's notes for this story explaining myself, and I'm getting exhausted by this. Much of this story is garnered from personal experience. The scenes, the interactions, the doubts, the griefs - many of them are mine. This story speaks a lot about my own personal journey. This isn't a D/s story with family thrown in. It's the story about a family coming together, where one of the main characters happens to be a professional sex worker. Kurt is an exceptional Dominant, but he's also human. He wasn't born a "perfect Dominant". No one is. Everyone started out somewhere. He does make mistakes. But at heart, there is a lot of relationship stuff going on in this. Kurt has never had a "personal" sub, and many of his feelings about that are going to conflict with the reality of it. He has his moments, good and bad, and sometimes he rushes to conclusions without thinking. But nothing that he does that can be deemed negative ever just slides. Kurt is a sadomasochist. Blaine is very devoted to him, and they care about each other very much. There are tons of different nuances in D/s, on both the scene side and the relationship side. Both Kurt and Blaine have their "switch" moments. And Blaine isn't just one type of submissive. He has his "prince" moments, he has other moments. Kurt, in turn, has issue with having Blaine refer to him as "Sir". This may be very different from other stories you have read, but that doesn't make it wrong. If this one doesn't appeal to you for whatever reason, guess what? You can simply move along. But I refuse to make apologies for this story. I shouldn't have to. It is what it is. Like it or leave it.
> 
> The cover in the first chapter was masterfully created by ForbiddenDusk (freakingpotter on Tumblr) <3

Kurt regarded himself in the cloudy reflection of his full length mirror, and sighed a long, defeated sigh. He tugged on his jacket, frowning disapprovingly at the worn seams. He tightened his belt and twisted his pants a little to the left, then a little to the right. He pulled them up at the knees an inch, examining the microscopically frayed hems. His shoes, however, sparkled, polished to perfection, gleaming like a brand new penny, which only further emphasized how disgraceful everything else looked.

"That's it!" Kurt announced. "I'm not going! I refuse to be seen out in public like this!"

"What!?" a voice exclaimed from the hallway. "But, you've been waiting for this autograph signing since last year! I got the day off, we got the car tuned up, you've saved every cent you could spare. You _have_ to go!"

Kurt huffed, annoyed that no one else seemed to understand his dilemma. He quietly considered, then reconsidered his outfit. Then he dropped down on the edge of his bed and looked at himself some more. He just didn’t look fit to go out on the town. What he looked like was a vagrant. He might as well get himself a cardboard box and a sign to complete the ensemble.

The bedroom door opened a crack, and a hazel eye peeked through.

"Love? Can I come in?"

"Yeah. Sure. Come on in,” Kurt groaned. “Bring the whole crew in with you while you're at it, because I'm not going."

Kurt didn't look up as soft footsteps padded in, and a figure settled beside him, causing the mattress to tilt. A hand rested on his knee, careful not to wrinkle the fabric of Kurt's only remaining Alexander McQueen suit.

"Kurt, you know you want to go. And despite what you think" - Approving eyes appraised him with appreciation - "you look _incredible_."

"I wear this to every dress up function," Kurt lamented. He hadn’t intended on whining, but he felt a little foolish, and disheartened at his current predicament. "It's so two years ago."

A comforting arm circled Kurt's shoulders.

"But, doesn't that make it vintage?"

Kurt sighed. "No. In order for it to be vintage, it has to be at least ten years old, if not older. Good try, though."

Kurt looked at himself in despair, but his eager partner refused to give up.

"Why not wear some of your work clothes? You designed those, and they're amazing!"

Kurt turned to look the man sitting beside him full in the face.

"I know you're trying, really. But I can't wear my work clothes. They're not exactly ... uh ... appropriate."

"Well, no, not all of them." The face inches from Kurt's blushed. "But, you could take some of your own pieces, mix them with your McQueen, and come up with a style of your own, right? That could be ... something ..."

Kurt's eyes widened. His smile - long forgotten as he grieved over his outdated clothes - brightened his face.

"Dave Karofsky, you're speaking Vogue!" Kurt planted a kiss on Dave's cheek, and Dave blushed even more. Gone were the days of the icy glares and deathly scowls. The Dave Karofsky that Kurt lived with was compassionate and selfless, always there to lend a hand when necessary, and knew when to offer his opinion.

He also knew when to stay out of Kurt’s way. 

Kurt started sifting through his closet, looking for something appropriate for a night time affair.

"Oh, if only I had my vintage navy blue fitted suit from McQueen's 1996 spring/summer collection ..."

"You mean that vampire thing?"

Kurt chuckled to himself. Dave might be rough around the edges, but he tried so hard sometimes.

"Yeah,” Kurt said. “It was one of my fav-- well, all my McQueens were my favorite, but that one, _ah_... there was just something about it that was so dark and mysterious. It would totally go with everything I ..."

Kurt stopped when he felt a sleeve of fabric brush his arm. He turned his head to see a sheepish Dave holding a velvet covered hanger, and hanging from it, Kurt’s vintage navy blue McQueen.

"What ... where did you get this?" Kurt asked in awe, touching the suit as though it could disappear any second.

"I felt so bad when you had to auction off your McQueen collection to help us pay the rent," Dave explained, reverently handing over the garment. "I knew this one was your favorite, so I kept it."

"I thought the guy at the eBay store had taken it." Kurt suddenly felt guilty. "I ran down there and yelled at Mario until he gave us his whole commission."

Dave shrugged. He felt guilty about that, too. He had had every intention of telling Kurt beforehand, but after he saw how Kurt tore into that man, Dave decided he’d rather live instead. Besides, that was over $3,000 Kurt got back from the guy. Dave knew that keeping it wouldn’t sit well with his conscience, seeing as he knew that Mario, working two jobs and with a family to support, needed it just as badly as they did. But Dave forced himself to be selfish. Since they had less than nothing at the time, there was no way he was telling Kurt the truth and risk having him return the money.

It was a byproduct of being so blisteringly poor. It came down to his family, or Mario’s, and Dave chose his own. He hated to admit it, but if he had to, he would do it again.

Kurt laid the suit down on the bed, and threw himself into Dave's arms.

"Thank you." Kurt squeezed his eyes tight against the tears he felt welling up behind his eyelids. Dave's arms encircled Kurt's waist and held him.

"You're very welcome," Dave said, breathing in the jasmine scent of Kurt's shampoo.

Dave, uncharacteristically, was the first to let go.

"Now get this suit on, and come out and show us the old Kurt Hummel, hmm? He's been gone for a while, and I kind of miss him."

Kurt smiled, and Dave placed a kiss to Kurt's cheek. He took a moment to soak in the affection in Kurt's eyes, then left him alone to change.

To Dave's surprise, barely thirty minutes went by before Kurt stepped out of their bedroom. He absolutely glowed in his glorious vintage suit and meticulously crafted Kurt Hummel original silk shirt. Dave stood from the sofa, overwhelmed by what could have been an 18-year-old Kurt Hummel standing in front of him. But the man standing before him now looked a lot more poised and elegant, more comfortable in his body. If possible, Dave fell more in love with him than he had been moments ago. Kurt gave them a spin in his polished leather shoes, and received a thunderous round of applause from their motley crew - one lanky, too-tall for his age boy, and two tomboyish little girls. The fourth child, a two-year-old girl nestled in Dave's arms, kept quiet, down for her nap despite the noise. Kurt always thought that girl could sleep through anything, and every day, living in a house full of kids who didn’t understand the meaning of the words _keep it down_ , she proved him right.

"Thank you, thank you," Kurt said, bowing graciously low, "but I have to go if I am going to beat the traffic."

"Yes, yes," the boy said, feigning spite, "go off to L.A. and see your _man_."

Dave stifled a chuckle, knowing Junior was just repeating the words he himself had used to tease Kurt countless times over the past few weeks.

"Oh, don't be like that," Kurt said, stooping to hold the boy by the arms, rubbing his thumbs over his biceps, but not pulling him in for a hug lest he wrinkle his suit. The children knew better than to wrinkle Kurt's clothes. Kurt didn’t have many designer outfits left, so it was considered a cardinal sin to do anything that might ruin them.

"You're not really going to run off with the hobbit man, are you?" Barbra, the next eldest, asked seriously. Kurt startled at the term _hobbit_ , then turned an incredulous glare on Dave, who was doing a horrible job hiding his laughter.

"No," Kurt said. "I'm coming home either late tonight or tomorrow. I'm just going to go get his autograph."

"Fine," Junior huffed. "Because he can't have you."

"You wouldn't miss me." Kurt grinned. "You'd miss my maple walnut pancakes. Admit it."

"Well, _duh_." Junior's eyes lit up with his mocking smile. ' _Eyes so much like his father's_ ,' Kurt thought sadly, his smile faltering at the edges, but not enough for Junior to notice. Kurt shook his head, clearing those thoughts. If he took this time to dwell, he would burst into tears, and then he would be a mess. He kissed Junior on the forehead, and then again on the cheek as the boy playfully swatted him away. Kurt crouched to kiss Barbra and Eva, then he kissed Elphaba cradled in Dave's arms. The gesture didn’t wake her. Kurt took a moment to gaze into Dave's eyes with unvoiced gratitude, and kissed him chastely on the lips. Kurt grabbed his keys off the kitchen table, and headed for the back door. He hurried down the steps to the carport with Dave close at his heels.

"Soooo, are you excited to finally meet your man?" Dave teased the way he had dozens of times today alone, but Kurt detected a strange catch in Dave's tone. It sounded like worry ... or maybe even jealousy. 

"Of course," Kurt teased back, flattered that Dave could think that Kurt would even have a chance with a huge superstar. What did Dave honestly think would happen tonight? He would go to the signing, picture in hand. They would see each other, their eyes would meet, and it would be as if they were waiting for each other their entire lives. Then _bam_! Hot and heavy in a cheap hotel room. Kurt laughed out loud at the thought. As if! Well, he could always dream.

Dave, however, watching Kurt get wrapped up in that fantasy, and then sigh dreamily, did not seem amused. 

"How do we even know he's gay?" Dave asked, following Kurt to the car, shifting the sleeping toddler in his arms.

"Oh, sweetie…" Kurt put his overnight bag in the trunk of their tiny silver Suzuki Esteem. He lifted the lid with barely his fingertips, cursing himself for not getting it washed before he got dressed. He would rectify that on the way. He was not going to show up with three inches of dust on his car. "How long have we known each other, and your gay-dar is still a bit off? That man is as far in the closet as you were, hon. The only difference is he has a whole studio to keep him locked in there."

Kurt didn’t know why Dave cared, but he seemed sincerely concerned. "But, he's dating that chick from the show and ..."

Kurt turned his eyes on him, sparking with amusement. He arched an eyebrow and gave Dave a quizzical look, silently reminding him of his short lived high school relationship with their sort-of-friend Santana. Realization blossomed on Dave's face in the form of a hot blush to his cheeks.

"Point taken," Dave murmured. Kurt leaned in and kissed Dave on the cheek, then Elphaba on the forehead one more time.

"Take the little angel inside so the car doesn't wake her up. It might be the only thing that will, and you don’t want to take that chance. Otherwise, she’ll be up all night."

"Ok." Dave turned, but he was reluctant to leave. He reached the top step and stood by the door, but then he turned back to Kurt, who was trying to fold himself into the front seat of his car without messing up his suit.

"Have fun,” Dave called out, “just, don't leave us ... ok?"

Kurt thought for sure Dave was teasing, but when he turned to look at the man, his face had an expression Kurt couldn't decipher. Kurt smiled reassuringly, a slight upturn at the corner of his lips, but it still managed to transform his entire face.

"I won't, Dave," Kurt said. "I'm not going anywhere." 

Dave walked into the house, content with that as a response. When Kurt heard the lock turn, he mumbled to himself, "but don't wait up."

Kurt took a deep breath and closed his eyes against the loud squealing noise he knew would come when he turned the ignition key. How humiliating. He just prayed that the sound, but not the car, would die somewhere between San Diego and Los Angeles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I would like to give a shout out to one of my favorite charities, Young Storytellers, who held a charity event in Culver City in October of 2012, which I had the honor of attending. Check out their YouTube videos and see Darren Criss as one of the Beatles ;)

Culver City. Kurt had never even heard of the place, and now he just wanted to get there. A middle school in Culver City to be precise. The autograph signing was actually part of a fundraiser for an inner city school project that helped kids realize their dreams of writing screenplays and scripts, so they were holding the signing in the outdoor courtyard where the kids ate their lunch every day. In the end, Kurt could say that spending $500 for his ticket was money well spent if it helped fuel the dreams of kids like his. Plus, he got the chance to meet Blaine Anderson to boot.

For the opportunity to meet Blaine Anderson, $500 was a _steal,_ even if it did mean that his family would be eating mac ‘n cheese for the rest of the month. And not the name brand stuff either. The knock off store brand crap that he could only pass off because it, too, came in a blue box.

 _Blaine Anderson_. Thinking about the man had made Kurt’s three hour and nine minute drive (thanks to a hellacious accident – one overturned semi and three cars piled up) fly by. Kurt had to park his car in butt fuck Egypt (every school had one, a parking lot so far away it might as well be on another continent), and jog over. It seemed insane to Kurt that kids would be required to cross a busy street and walk all this way just to get to school.

He prayed, for their sake, that it was one hell of an impressive school.  

Despite traffic’s best efforts to make him late, Kurt arrived fifteen minutes early, but by the time he got to the line, it was already a mile long.

Had he stayed in the lot where he’d parked, the line would have eventually come to him.

Traffic and long line be damned, Kurt remained upbeat. He couldn't believe that any minute now he would meet his idol. _And_ get his autograph. _And_ talk to him. _And_ possibly shake his hand. But Kurt had a while to wait. He could feel a lump form in his throat in anticipation of meeting the one and only Blaine Anderson, star of Kurt's all-time favorite show _Sing_. Thank whatever abstract higher power creature lived in the sky above that Dave had forced him to go. Dave was right. Kurt deserved this. He deserved this moment, without Dave and the kids tagging along, to drool over this gorgeous man.

Kurt caught glimpses of Blaine over the sea of heads in front of him. There Blaine sat at a series of long tables beside his co-stars, including his on-screen bestie/off-screen girlfriend Mia Bradley, and rumored love interest Sebastian Smythe. Sebastian was handsome in a cheesy, CK model sort of way, but Kurt always thought he kind of had a meerkat face and horse teeth. And no, that wasn’t jealousy talking. Not at all. ( _Seriously, though_ , Kurt thought, _they must cake the make-up on that man, because if the camera adds ten pounds, there’s no telling how badly it exaggerates a feature like that. There’s no way they don’t do something to fix it for the show._ )

But Blaine Anderson was the genuine article. Apparently, most of Southern California thought so, too, as evidenced by the line Kurt stood patiently in. It wove its way around the asphalt courtyard three times before stopping in front of the man himself.

Kurt bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet as he waited on line. It crept along far too slowly for Kurt's taste as every teeny bopper and middle-aged woman felt the need to stop all forward progression to tell Blaine how amazing he was, how handsome, how talented, how genuine a person, as if Blaine Anderson, of all people, needed to hear that over and over and over …

Oh, who was he kidding? Kurt would probably do the same. Because regardless of if Blaine _had_ heard all of that a thousand times before, he hadn’t heard it from Kurt yet, and as far as Kurt was concerned, Blaine Anderson needed to hear from Kurt that he thought Blaine was the most incredible man that ever lived.

Kurt received quite a few interesting looks as he waited. It seemed that when an event called for "business casual" on the invite, it was understood in this day and age to mean jeans and a t-shirt. Or in some cases, booty shorts and a tank top. Kurt wasn't exactly sure how that worked. He guessed it depended on what kind of “business” a person was in.

Considering his own line of work, was he really in a position to judge?

The answer to that was _yes_ , but that was beside the point …

So, he was overdressed. So what? He was comfortable in his own skin, not to mention in his absolute favorite Alexander McQueen. He made a mental note to cook Dave his favorite rack of lamb a la Kurt as soon as he could afford one as a big thank you for rescuing his suit from the uncultured masses. 

The minutes inched ever closer, and Kurt's heart thrummed in his chest. Five people, then four people, then three, and two that came together (thank God), then one ... and Kurt had arrived.

There Blaine Anderson sat, as dreamy as ever.

He wore a tight, royal blue, long-sleeve Henley that looked so cozy, Kurt had to do everything in his power to keep from reaching out and feeling the material. A quick peek beneath the table told Kurt that Blaine was wearing his signature indigo jeans, the ones that left precious little to the imagination. Blaine's black curls had been left relatively untouched - such a stark contrast to the severely gelled coiffure he sported on TV. Kurt stood so close that he could brush a curl from Blaine’s face, maybe leave a kiss on his temple ...  
  
Kurt blushed, and he felt foolish. After all, in the end, Blaine was just a person - an incredibly handsome, successful, compassionate person – but, a person.  _'Still puts his pants on one leg at a time_ ,' his dad would have said. Kurt rolled his eyes. ' _Great. Thinking about my dad. That always helps when confronted with introducing myself to a sexy man_.’ But Kurt was no shrinking violet. Kurt Hummel was a force to be reckoned with. He pulled himself to his full height and cleared the lump from his throat. He held out his photograph and said, "Excuse me. Mr. Anderson?"

Then something unexpected happened. Blaine looked up. He reached out for Kurt's photo ... and took hold of his hand instead.

***

Blaine loved autograph signings. Mia felt indifferent about them and Sebastian couldn’t stand them, but for Blaine, an opportunity to have his ego stroked by the masses who loved and adored him was always a welcome way to spend a Saturday night. He had already signed well over a hundred head shots, but the line kept growing, and he was far from tired. He was enjoying himself so much, he barely registered the scowl from Sebastian as his co-star flipped between one app or another on his iPhone and sarcastically commented to the fans that had waited minutes on line for Sebastian's autograph compared to Blaine’s over an hour-and-a-half. 

Blaine looked up at the next person in line, expecting to see another hot teenager in a too-tight-to-be-appropriate tube top gush at him. What he didn't expect was to lock eyes with an angel - an angel with pale, flawless skin; crystal blue eyes; a head of wavy, chestnut hair; dressed impeccably in Alexander McQueen. Blaine's mouth dropped open slightly as he approached. The angel smiled at him, extending a hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine took it and held it.

And _oh_ , the angel's skin was soft. So very, very soft. 

Everything around Blaine stopped dead, everyone around him disappeared, and Blaine started entertaining thoughts he shouldn’t be in the presence of a PG-13 crowd. Wouldn't it be so easy for him to get up and walk away with this angel in his arms? He didn't really _need_ to be there. The rest of the cast were there signing autographs. Sebastian would _love_ the extra attention. No one would miss him. Even if they did, so what? What could be more important than being with this heavenly vision? 

Blaine held the angel's gaze, mesmerized. He looked into the angel’s shimmering azure eyes and planned the rest of his life, from these few minutes to the next fifty years ... and Blaine didn't even know his name.

"Hello. My name's Blaine," he said lamely. The angel giggled. 

Then the angel opened his mouth, and there came a voice ... a voice that rang like a bell, high and clear, inhuman in its beauty. It drifted into Blaine's brain like a song that he knew would be there forever, in his head, in his heart, stuck like an earworm wiggling its way inside his brain.

And he hardly minded. 

"I know," the angel said. "My name's Kurt."

 _Kurt_.

_The angel’s name was Kurt._

"Well, Kurt," Blaine said, swallowing thickly, "it's nice to meet you."

Blaine's reaction overwhelmed Kurt. What was happening here? Were they sharing a moment? 

' _Shh, Kurt_ ,' he said to himself. ' _Blaine Anderson is an incurable flirt, remember?'_

But this didn't seem like regular, everyday flirting to Kurt. Blaine Anderson, _the_ Blaine Anderson, was staring at him in awe, holding his hand captive. Kurt gave it a little tug, but the man would not let go.

Sebastian looked up from his game of Candy Crush and over at his co-star when he noticed Blaine’s line had stopped moving. When he caught Blaine staring in rapt attention at the man standing before him, Sebastian was shocked ... and then he seethed. Was Blaine Anderson _really_ gawking like a lovesick teenager at one of his _fans_? Nu-uh. Not Blaine. Blaine didn’t fuck with fans. Neither of them did. That was dangerous territory. Besides, Blaine had had his dick down Sebastian’s throat not five hours ago. There’s no way he was making googly eyes at someone else. Sebastian had to squash this and _fast_. He pulled out his iPhone and tapped out a text message.

Blaine snapped awake from his daydream when he heard the chirp of his message alert. He let go of Kurt’s hand and picked up his phone. He swiped through the lock screen and saw Sebastian’s message:  _Mayday, mayday! You've got your gay face on! Turn on the baby maker charm and get rid of Captain Super Fag!_

Blaine winced at the words on the screen, but unfortunately, Sebastian was right. Regardless of the fact that Blaine knew who and what he was, how he wanted to live his life, he was tied to the studio and this show. It had made him a star. The studio created his image, and they liked him a certain way - a sweet, sincere heterosexual; nerdy, but with an unmistakable “bad boy” side; who looked vaguely Eurasian; who could play a homosexual role and bump up their diversity quotient - to be adored by women and men alike. It didn’t seem to matter that the gossip mags were right on the money; that Blaine had been fooling around with Sebastian since Sebastian's character had been introduced on the show a year ago. Blaine was dating Mia, his on-screen best friend. He had to play the role off-screen of the raging heterosexual with an open mind and effervescent charisma, but that meant being himself only behind closed doors.

That wasn’t Kurt’s problem, though. And Blaine being attracted to Kurt wasn’t Kurt’s fault. Blaine didn't know how to rectify this situation, how to dismiss this angel and move things along.

Why in the world would he want to?

In the end, he didn't have to.

"Hey, princess," Sebastian said. "That's a very ... uh ... eclectic outfit you have going there."

Kurt turned to Sebastian, suspicion wrinkling his brow. "Um, thank you?" Kurt replied, but it came out more as a question, because Sebastian's compliment sounded like a thinly veiled insult.

"What is it that you do?" Blaine asked, motioning for the next person in line to come forward, picking up where Sebastian left off. "Are you a _designer_?" Blaine's tone had changed, had become less than sincere, and Kurt had the chilling feeling that, all of a sudden, he was now the butt of some inside joke.

"Um, no, no." Kurt stumbled out of character, but it wasn’t a conscious mistake. He felt like he was back in his high school cafeteria, cornered by wolves dressed in letterman jackets. He’d been cornered by older versions of those same wolves before, so that part he was used to.

But the wolves in front of him dressed a lot better, wore more convincing disguises, and that threw him off. 

"Actually, I'm a ..." He stopped. He wasn’t ashamed of his profession, even though society tried its damnedest to make him feel ashamed. Maybe he was once, but not now. It’s what he did, not who he was. But the lines of people waiting for autographs had stopped moving, their occupants watching him with amused expressions. He had also managed to garner the attention of some of the other stars at the table, including Mia. The look in Sebastian's eyes told Kurt that no answer he gave would be right. He could cover by saying he taught classes down at his local rec center, which was true and much more innocent, but even that would get twisted around somehow. The man would find a way to make fun of him. That was his goal.

Kurt couldn’t win.

Blaine's expression, on the other hand, was indecipherable - a mixture of mocking and nausea. Kurt didn't know what to do, so he went with his first instinct. He stood up straight and squared his shoulders.

"I'm a professional Dominant,” Kurt said. “Dominatrix is the title I prefer, to be honest."

If Kurt was going for shock value, well, he definitely achieved that. He could tell by the expressions on the faces around him that no one expected _that_ as an answer. Sebastian's bottom jaw fell to the table and Blaine's eyes bugged out of his skull. Kurt would have laughed if he didn’t feel surrounded, completely closed in by the tables and the crowd. Kurt heard some snickering, but he was mostly met by a stunned silence.

"Wait, wait, wait," Sebastian said, his underscoring chuckle slicing through the quiet, paving the way for other laughs like it, "so, you tie people up and have sex with them?" When Blaine didn't immediately join in, Sebastian kicked him under the table. Blaine snapped his head to glare at Sebastian, who egged him on with his eyes. Blaine’s lips lifted reluctantly into a smirk.

"And the spanking," Blaine added with a chuckle of his own, inviting others, by his action, to do the same. He grabbed Kurt’s photo and signed it without looking at Kurt, as if he wasn’t even there.

"No," Kurt said defensively, catching the autographed photo that Blaine flung his way. "My job isn't that simple. And it's not all sexual."

"But, that means some of it _is_ sexual," Sebastian helpfully filled in. The tittering girls behind Kurt laughed. Then Mia laughed. Blaine laughed as well. That sound, the sound of Blaine's ridiculing laughter, froze Kurt.

"No,” Kurt tried again, needing to make them understand, to make _Blaine_ understand, “I -"

"Admit it, Kurt," Sebastian leapt in, not leaving an opening long enough for Kurt to speak, "you tie people up, you smack them around, and then you have sex with them. People pay you money to have sex with them."

"Like a prostitute," Blaine finished, and this time _everyone_ laughed. It wasn't tremendously loud, but the sound of it overwhelmed Kurt. Kurt opened his mouth a couple of times to say something, to explain, defend himself, but nothing came out. He was mortified, humiliated in public by his idol, his role model. Kurt held his photograph closer to him, wrapping his arms protectively across his chest, not caring if his suit wrinkled or not. His face burned and his eyes watered, but he refused to let these people see him cry. 

When his voice came back to him, he managed a subdued, "Thank you for the autograph." He straightened his spine, turned on his heel, and walked away.

Sebastian clapped Blaine on the shoulder with a triumphant grin on his lips. “Good job, tiger. We’ll celebrate that kill later. Now, let’s get back to business.” Then he returned his attention to the fans in his line. He was so pleased with himself, he even forfeited his game of Candy Crush.

Blaine's face fell instantly, his smug smile gone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kurt walk away. With each step, Kurt's shoulders sagged a bit more. From the slight tremor of his upper body, Blaine knew he had broken down. Blaine felt helpless. _Worthless_ and helpless because he had done that. He had help tear down this man when that couldn’t have been further from what he had wanted. But Blaine couldn’t do anything about it at the moment, not when his fans were calling out to him, shoving pictures in front of him, each one vying for his attention with much less class than Kurt had. Blaine caved to the pressure, forcing a smile back on his face for his adoring public while, under the table, he dug his fingernails into his thigh and hated himself thoroughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to address my word useage. I had a feeling it was going to come up, and since it has, I want to make it clear for my readers so that they can better enjoy the remainder of this story. I chose to call Kurt a dominatrix for a specific reason. Yes, traditionally the word 'dominatrix' has been used to refer to a female professional dominant. The male term is either dominant, or more to the point 'dominator'. However, the terminology is also more fluid, and since Kurt has chosen to tap into his feminine side, and wear clothes mostly worn by female dominants, he has taken on the moniker of dominatrix. The term dominatrix also evokes a certain image - an image that I felt would appeal more to my 'Blaine' character as he identifies himself as being bi-sexual. To avoid this confusion, I have often shortened the term to dom to make the story easier to read. I am trying to portray a Kurt who is comfortable with both his masculine and feminine side, but who often uses cross dressing in his professional life as a shield to empower him. I hope that this explanation makes the story easier to read. Thank you for your patience and continued devotion to reading this story :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you guys catch my nod to Ryan Murphy and Darren Criss in this chapter.

Kurt kept walking, not sure of his overall game plan. He figured he could go back to his car and leave, but the parking lot was behind him. Kurt wasn't quite prepared to turn around and walk past Blaine and Sebastian's table again, past all of those people still waiting in line. He had an urge to hide out, let things blow over, but where? Everything was pretty much out in the open. To his left, he spotted a planter with a large palm tree growing in it, surrounded by some sort of hedge which would allow people to sit on the planter and be concealed. Well, this looked perfect. He could hide here till everyone left and then slink away, indulge in a cathartic cry.

He had had no intention of breaking down the way he did. Normally, he wouldn’t let things like that get to him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been jeered at because of his profession. It wasn’t even the first time he’d been called a prostitute. But then again, it had been a long time since he had been somewhere other than work, the kids’ doctors’ appointments, or the occasional holiday dinner thrown by Dave’s office. He wasn’t used to people attacking him over his job when he was out of armor. Dressed in vinyl or leather, with a flogger in his hand, he would have been well equipped to tell everyone present to “Fuck of!” But dressed in a fine suit and surrounded by vanilla people, trying to capture back a little of what it meant to be _Kurt_ before he became a father, before he became a Dominatrix, back when he was still finding himself and this show was important to him, he wasn’t prepared to be ripped apart.

He hadn’t prepared himself for it. He didn’t know how to handle it - not here, and definitely not in front of Blaine Anderson.

Kurt felt his iPhone vibrate in his pocket, and the faint but familiar sounds of his ring tone, ‘Defying Gravity'. He pulled his phone out of his inside jacket pocket and looked at the screen. The caller ID read _Home_.

 _Great_ , Kurt thought, but deep down inside he needed to hear Dave's voice. He needed Dave's strength or else he would fall apart, and fuck being able to drive after that.

Kurt answered the call, and in the brightest voice he could conjure up, he said, “Hey, Dave!”

"Hey, hon. How's it going?" Dave's voice was welcome and soothing; two words he never imagined he would use to describe the man who tormented him during most of high school. But here Kurt was, talking to him, picturing him sitting on the tattered sofa in _their_ home, most likely with one or more sleepy-eyed rug rats cuddled in his lap.

"Great," Kurt lied, stemming the tide of tears that wanted to fall in earnest.

"Kurt?" Dave said, concern creeping into his voice. "What's wrong? It sounds like you're crying. Aren't you having a good time?"

 _Oh, sure_ , Kurt thought. _Remember when we were in high school and you used to shoulder check me every day, and throw me in dumpsters, and then you hate kissed me in the locker room? Yeah, well, this is slightly less fun than that ..._

"No. I mean, yeah, I'm having a _great_ time." Kurt forced himself not to sniffle, even though the need to do so was strong. "And no, I'm not crying. It’s … my allergies. It's really dry here. My eyes are watering like crazy."

His lie worked. He heard Dave sigh, relieved. He could even hear a smile in his voice as he continued.

"That's great," Dave said. “Not about the allergies. I’m glad you’re having a good time. You deserve this. But we missed you at the Wii Sports Resort tourney this afternoon."

Kurt let himself relax. He settled down onto the edge of the planter. He closed his eyes and focused on the timbre of Dave's voice; the roll of his laughter comforting to Kurt even though he was miles away. 

"Really?" Kurt chuckled. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Well" - Kurt heard rustling on the other end of the line, the telltale sounds of someone getting tucked in to bed – “Junior won the coin toss, so he chose first.”

“And what did he choose?”

“Archery. He managed to beat my high score."

"Oh!" Kurt laughed honestly as he imagined Junior beating Dave, then performing his obnoxious fist pumping, butt wiggling victory dance. "You must have _loved_ that."

"Yeah, well," Dave grumbled, adorably disgruntled, "don't get _too_ cocky. Barbra knocked your high score out of the park in sword fighting."

Kurt gasped. "That little ... well, good for her," he groaned. Dave laughed, and Kurt couldn't help it. He laughed, too. "And then what?"

"Well, we made cookies ..."

"Oh, Dave! Don't tell me you gave the kids _cookies_ for dinner?"

"All right, all right," Dave said, then muttered under his breath, "I won't tell you ..."

“Dave!” Kurt scolded, but his smile remained. 

“It’s your fault,” Dave scolded back. “Technically, it was _your_ turn to cook dinner. Without you here, we had to fend for ourselves.”

Kurt choked on the laugh fighting with the remains of that lump in his throat. Since he made dinner most nights, that was a bogus excuse, but he’d let it slide. Dave went through a lot to give Kurt this gift. Just because the gift went sour didn’t mean the effort was any less appreciated.

"Okay, okay. This once is all right, I guess. Just keep an eye on Eva.”

Dave huffed. “Don’t I always?”

“Since I’m not the genius who gave her _cookies_ for dinner, I reserve the right to nag.”

Dave stopped his argument, properly shamed. “Fair enough.”

Kurt opened his mouth to comment, but a yawn intervened. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until just then. Getting ganged up on could take a lot out of a person. Plus the drive up didn’t help. He wasn’t looking forward to hitting the highway again. Not tonight. Not after everything that had happened.

“Look, Dave, it's getting late, and I'm really tired, so I think I'm going to spend the night at a hotel."

"Okay." Dave’s voice had become a hushed whisper as he pulled the blankets up on the sleeping girls in their family bedroom. "Where are you staying?"

Kurt struggled against another yawn as he answered. "The Airport Motel 6.”

The sound of a throat clearing yanked Kurt from his happy place. He opened his eyes, reluctantly ripping himself away from the small, often cluttered, but cozy confines of the rundown trailer he called home, where his haphazard family, and the man he never thought he would have any kind of a relationship with, were getting ready for bed. He returned back to the asphalt courtyard, with too many people and too much noise, its harsh, white lights, and Blaine Anderson, hovering like a specter, eyes shining, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Dave, I need to go. I'll call you when I'm at the hotel."

"Oh. Ok," Dave said, confused by the clip in Kurt's tone. "Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye." Kurt hung up his phone and pocketed it quickly, as if removing it from sight would keep his little world safe from the cruel scrutiny of Blaine Anderson.

Blaine looked at Kurt, waiting for an invitation to sit, a _drop dead_ , anything.

Kurt glared at Blaine, waiting for him to get on with whatever and leave.

“Hello,” Blaine said, then waited for a return greeting.

He didn’t get one.

Blaine knew he should probably just leave the poor man alone, but he couldn't get the angel in the blue suit out of his head. His smile, his hair (that looked so sinfully soft, Blaine had to do everything in his power to keep from reaching out and touching it), and his eyes. Oh, God, those eyes. Those subtly powerful eyes, that couldn't seem to decide if they wanted to twinkle blue like the calm sea, or sparkle grey like a violent storm. Blaine had been moved by those eyes, and he would see them forever, wherever he went. 

Blaine's insides coiled tighter and tighter as the night dragged on, especially since Sebastian and Mia took way too much delight in reliving the horrific humiliation of Blaine's angel to anyone who would listen. After hearing Mia exclaim, "I mean, how embarrassing!" for the hundredth time, Blaine had had enough. He called for a break and left a still growing line of fans as he went in search of Kurt.

Blaine walked off in the direction he thought he’d seen Kurt go, and prayed that he had hung around for ... for what, Blaine had no idea. Luckily, only a few yards from the autograph tables, Blaine heard Kurt’s melodious voice, sad at first, then laughing. Blaine was relieved to hear the man in better spirits, and could only hope that Kurt would accept his apology. 

Blaine had found him on the planter, eyes closed, face serene, as he spoke to a friend? Partner? Kurt didn't wear a ring. Please, oh please be a babysitter on the other end of that phone. Blaine hadn't wanted to interrupt, didn't want to deprive Kurt of the smile that had returned to his tear streaked face, but Blaine knew someone would come looking for him, most likely Sebastian or Mia. He didn’t want to put Kurt through that again.

When Kurt had lifted his gaze to look at Blaine, Blaine felt himself go cold. Blaine could see by the switch of emotion in Kurt's eyes, shining in the dark like iridescent glass, that this angel definitely hated him. They stared at each other in the stillness, Kurt poised as if preparing to run, and Blaine blocking his only viable exit. 

"So," Blaine began after his failed _hello_. He’d raised his hand for a wave, but relegated it to nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "You have kids? That must be nice." _Kids? I can deal with kids,_ Blaine thought, then realized a second later how creepy a thought that was. This man _hated_ him, and for good reason. What did Blaine expect to happen here? That his star power would simply wipe that all away, like a speeding ticket?

Kurt continued to stare, not answering Blaine's question, looking like he had no intention of answering. Blaine sighed dejectedly.

"Look," Blaine said, a tentative seat on the planter beside him, "I am really, really sorry about what I said."

Kurt continued to stare, but not at Blaine. He looked at the ground, looked at his hands, looked at his shoes, anywhere but at Blaine's face. He considered just standing up and leaving, but he remembered what a wise friend from high school had once told him when Dave was bullying him.

 _Call him out. Confront him_.

Kurt took a steadying breath, and Blaine sat motionless, giving him audience.

"I watch  _Sing_  all the time," Kurt began in a calm voice - calm, but strong. "I've never missed an episode. I relate to it. All your fans do in one way or another, I imagine."

Blaine watched Kurt speak, willing Kurt with his mind to turn his head and look at him, but Kurt kept his eyes on his hands instead.

"I was in high school when the show started. I even auditioned to be on it." Kurt laughed lightly, but sadly. He looked wistful. Blaine wanted to slide over and put an arm around him, but he knew for a fact that that wouldn’t be well received. He kept his arms crossed over his chest to kill the impulse. 

"Your character, Blaine ..." Kurt stopped. Blaine saw a tear run down Kurt's cheek. Blaine itched to wipe it away. Kurt beat him to it. "Your character made me feel less alone in the world. He gave me hope, talked me down from the ledge more times than I can count."

Kurt’s throat tightened around his confession, and they sat quietly for some time. Blaine didn't know if Kurt was going to continue. He noticed Kurt's clasped hands trembling. Any second, he expected Kurt to get up and bolt.

"But tonight, _you_ were a bully, Blaine. You cut me down in front of all those people for no reason. You know _nothing_ about me ..."

Blaine swallowed hard. He swallowed guilt and shame, and a loathing that he was familiar with, but which he had the unique talent of ignoring most days. "Kurt ... I ..."

"You spoke out against bullying on your show. Not just your character, Blaine. _You_. Those PSA’s you did after that school shooting, and when that one boy in Kentucky committed suicide, and …" 

Blaine couldn't look at Kurt now. His heart twisted in his chest at those words. The ache it left behind incapacitated him.

"I have been bullied my _entire_ life," Kurt admitted, wringing his hands till it looked like it hurt, till Blaine could hear skin rubbing against skin. 

"Kurt," Blaine said, "I have no excuse. I'm sorry. I really am. You have no idea how much."

Kurt flipped his hair out of his eyes, visibly irritated. Blaine shook his head. His apology sounded so weak. What he really wanted to do was explain all of the things that his fans didn't know. He wanted to tell Kurt the position he was in compared to the things he really wanted. In the end, he couldn't, not without making himself sound like more of an asshole. His final explanation, trite and juvenile, grated in his brain. 

"But I'm only human," Blaine said. 

 _A dumb human ..._ Blaine thought.

Kurt sniffled, and that clinched it for Kurt. Kurt Hummel didn’t sniffle, and he didn’t get reduced to a sappy mess over a _man_. He declared himself done with the self-pity party, with this pathetic public spectacle. He lifted his head resolutely.

"Yeah," Kurt said, "but I thought you were one of the _better_ ones.” He brushed stray bits of leaf litter off his pants. “No need to apologize. It was my mistake. They say you should never meet your idols. Now I know why." He got up stiffly, and left without a goodbye.

Blaine watched him leave, too stuck on stupid to think of a clever way to make him stay, a single word that would make this better since _I’m sorry_ didn’t seem to cut it. And it shouldn’t. What he did to Kurt went beyond having a simple _I’m sorry_ wipe the slate clean. He dropped his head into his hands, so utterly unimpressed with himself it made him sick. He rubbed his eyes hard with his fingertips, then raised his head to look over at the empty spot where Kurt had sat ... except it wasn't empty.

Sitting on the planter was Blaine's signed photograph.


	4. Chapter 4

It took Kurt longer than he imagined it would to get to the motel. He cried the minute he sat in the driver’s seat of his freshly washed car. Why was he so upset? Why did he feel so foolish? Being made fun of wasn’t anything new for Kurt. He had been teased and taunted most of his life, shoved into lockers, tossed into dumpsters, and had ice cold drinks thrown in his face so often that, from sophomore to senior year, Slushie facials had become part of his daily cleansing regimen. Kurt Hummel was no stranger to humiliation … just not from this source. Not from a man he admired for standing up publicly against bullying, homophobia, and violence.

A man he had imagined kissing more times than he could count.

Kurt wanted to get to the motel as quickly as possible. He wanted to clean up, moisturize, go to bed, and forget that tonight had ever happened. But there wasn't a working traffic light anywhere. To top it off, the streets seemed to go only one way, and it was never the way he needed to go. His ancient GPS fizzled out and his iPhone battery died. After driving in a circle for an hour, Kurt finally found a single solitary freeway entrance. He didn't care where it went; he took it. Luckily, it led to the airport, and he finally caught a glimpse of an end to this miserable night in the form of a blinking neon sign that probably shouldn’t be blinking.

Well, it wouldn’t be a motel that Kurt could afford if something as important as the sign out front worked.

Kurt parked his car under the only lit light post, though by the looks of the neighborhood, light or no light would hardly make a difference. Kurt predicted he'd find a homeless person sleeping in his car by morning. Kurt sighed and trundled into the motel, somehow managed to rent a room, and slunk into the elevator. Once inside his room, Kurt dropped his bags in the doorway, not caring to carry them in much farther. He carefully undressed, delicately hanging up his expensive suit. Then he showered. The small, cream-colored bathroom had one narrow tub and a clownishly tiny toilet, but it would serve his purpose.

Kurt stood numbly under the spray of hot water and let the evening wash away. Hot shower water in motels came in an abundant supply, so Kurt was content to stand and do nothing, think about nothing, until the sight of prune-y skin on his fingertips prompted him to move. He turned off the water and stepped gingerly from the tub. Not bothering to towel off, he wrapped himself in a fluffy white robe and plopped himself into a chair in front of the vanity mirror. 

Kurt stared at himself. The horrible lighting from 60 watt bulbs flickering and hissing beneath the faded yellow bonnet of the overhead light fixture made his complexion appear ruddy and tired. Truthfully, he _felt_ tired. Tired of his life. He had so many dreams. Even during the worst times in his existence, those dreams seemed so close, within his grasp if he only took one necessary step, whatever it could be. Now, whenever he looked back at his dreams, the farther they slipped away. He didn't regret his responsibilities. Raising those four kids became his sole focus the moment they entered his life. But they came with a lot of sacrifice, a lot of loss, a lot of long days and even longer nights. The consummate performer, Kurt tried not to let it show, but whether he liked it or not, it was written all over his face - in the fine lines at the corners of his mouth, in the dry patches along his hairline.

In his eyes, which he always thought of as one of his best features, hollow and empty.

He looked at the army of bottles and tubes he had laid out on the counter before him, an army that grew with every year he racked up. He took a deep breath in, and let it go.

Whatever it was that he felt needed to change, that change certainly wasn’t going to happen tonight.

He started to moisturize his face. He squirted lotion into his palm, and used his fingertips to massage it into his skin, questioning why he bothered anymore.

 _Knock, knock_.

Kurt startled and shot out of his seat, surprised to hear at knock at his door. The floor had been quiet since he got there; not a peep from outside his door except the ping of the elevator as it skipped floors. His eyes flicked to the clock at his bedside. It was nearly midnight.

_Who the hell …?_

_Knock, knock_.

Kurt held his breath and willed himself to stand absolutely still. Maybe if he didn't respond, whoever it was on the other side of the door would go away and, you know, murder someone else. 

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

The door handle jiggled, bringing Kurt’s eyes straight to it. He cursed himself when he noticed he hadn't flipped the safety bar or secured the chain. His bags still lay in a pile in front of the door, but if the person knocking had a card key, they could conceivably force their way in.

_Oh God … please, no …_

"Kurt?" a hoarse voice whispered through the crack in the door. "Kurt, are you there?"

Kurt's brow furrowed as he realized he recognized the voice ... a very unlikely voice.

"Blaine?" Kurt walked toward the door.

"Kurt? Could you open the door, please?"

Kurt stared at the door as if expecting it to do something. He kind of hoped it would, because he didn't know _what_ to do. Why would Blaine Anderson be here, at a Motel 6 of all places? And even if his being in a Motel 6 was at all logical, why was he looking for Kurt?

Kurt approached the door slowly, cautiously, as if it could burst open at any minute.

"Kurt?" Blaine sounded desperate. "Kurt, the lady downstairs in the lobby said someone was killed in this hallway last night. I don't want to be next."

Kurt stifled a chuckle as he looked through the peep hole. He jumped, his heart stuttering, when he saw an eye looking back at him. 

"Kurt? _Kuuur-uurt_?"

_Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock._

"Please, Kurt ..." Blaine was whining now. “Please open up …”

Kurt tossed his bags aside. He unlocked the door and opened it wide, watching in partial amusement as Blaine pushed his way inside, launching himself into the room as if Satan himself were on his heels. Kurt shook his head as he closed the door, this time throwing the bar and chain across.

"Thank you, Kurt," Blaine panted, fixing his twisted jacket.

"Don't worry," Kurt said, watching Blaine fret over his clothes. "From what I hear, that stabbing was a drug deal gone wrong. A total misunderstanding." 

Blaine stopped all movement and stared at Kurt, eyes comically wide. Kurt was tempted to laugh at the scene before him. Blaine's mass of curls stuck out chaotically from a knit beanie pulled down low on his head. His flushed face made Kurt wonder if he hadn't run all the way up the stairs and down the hall. But Kurt schooled his face into a mask of indifference as he confronted Blaine.

"How did you know I was here?" Kurt asked.

"I heard you talking on the phone to your, uh, friend?" Blaine left it a question, hoping Kurt would confirm that, indeed, the person on the other end of that earlier call was a friend. Just a friend. Not a romantic relationship whatsoever.

But Kurt just stared at him.

“Anyway, you told them you would be here," Blaine finished.

"Stalker much?" Kurt murmured. He peeked at his reflection in the mirror to make sure there were no stray stripes of lotion on his face. “So, you knew I was here. Why did you come here then?”

"Uh, you left this. Back at the school?" Blaine presented Kurt with the forgotten photograph. "You should keep it. People are getting tens of dollars for those on eBay." 

Kurt barely glanced at the photograph as he grabbed it out of Blaine's hand and tossed it onto the vanity. 

"I ... added something to the signature.” Blaine pointed vaguely in the direction the photo landed. Kurt exhaled tiredly. He picked it up and read the new inscription - _To my dearest Kurt, Please forgive me. I was an asshole. I am so so so sorry. With all my heart - Blaine Anderson._

Along the bottom, Blaine had drawn a line of hearts, along with some x's and o's.

Kurt looked at Blaine with a bemused expression.

"Seems a bit much, don't you think?" Kurt smirked, putting the picture back on the vanity, but this time, he fixed it carefully into the frame of the mirror. Blaine smiled in relief at the gesture. Kurt sat back in front of the mirror and opened a new tub of lotion. He ran his ring finger through it, then patted it beneath his eyes.

"Well, I wanted to be sure you knew how sorry I was, because I am really, really sorry.”

"It would seem so." Kurt tried his hardest to look as if he was paying little attention to Blaine in his room. In reality, though, a voice in a very far corner of his brain screamed like a teenaged girl - BLAINE ANDERSON IS IN MY ROOM!!

"So, are we good?" Blaine asked.

Kurt turned to him, confused. "Why does it matter if we are or not? After tonight, we're never going to see each other again."

Blaine sat on the edge of Kurt's bed and watched him apply his moisturizer. Feeling Blaine's eyes search his face through the reflection in the mirror unnerved Kurt, especially since he had no clue what the man could want. He got up from his chair and crossed the room to sit at the table on the other side. Blaine considered sliding down the bed to sit closer, but decided just to turn and face him instead.

"Yeah, you see" - Blaine cleared his throat - "that _would_ make sense. But for some reason, I don't like that outcome."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't understand.”

"I don't ... I don't like the idea of never seeing you again."

Kurt scoffed. "You don't even _know_ me. You literally _just_ met me. I'm one of your _million_ biggest fans … or, at least, I _was_ ..."

Blaine flinched. _Ouch_.

"All you know is that I spank people for a living ..." Kurt stood again and paced, too antsy to sit, his attention trained on a distant spot out the window. "Actually, wait. No. I _sleep_ with people for a living. I'm a prostitute. I forgot."

Blaine sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He felt that, in one night, he had rubbed his face raw. Suddenly, Kurt stopped pacing, and realization dawned on his face.

"So _that's_ why you're here." Kurt threw up his hands. He looked at Blaine through eyes narrowed to slits. "You want me to sleep with you, is that it?"

Blaine stood, reaching his arms out to Kurt, but Kurt grimaced.

"I told you," Kurt said, stepping around Blaine, "I'm not a whore."

"I don't think you're a whore," Blaine said softly. "I never did." Blaine could see Kurt's face in the window, watched him wipe silent tears from his cheeks. A dozen emotions were imprinted on his face, a deep sadness in his eyes. "Can we talk about this?" Blaine asked, gesturing vaguely.

Kurt shrugged. "What is there to talk about?"

"You," Blaine said, hazel eyes dancing with an inner light as Kurt looked staunchly into them. "I want to know about you, this life you lead. I've only known you for a matter of minutes and you _fascinate_ me."

Kurt didn't know whether to scoff or dance. Either way, he couldn't give in to the joy that bubbled inside of him at the knowledge that Blaine Anderson wanted to know more about him ... that he _fascinated_ him. Blaine disarmed Kurt with his charm and his beauty, but Blaine wasn’t the man Kurt thought he was. He’d proven that tonight. The Blaine of Kurt's fantasies wouldn't have treated him like garbage. On the other hand, Blaine had gone through all of this trouble to find Kurt and apologize.

Should Kurt take a chance on this man who had felt the need to humiliate him in public and apologize in private? Which Blaine was the real Blaine? Was it worth it to Kurt to find out, if only to preserve the sanctity of his well-crafted fantasy, a daydream that got him through some of his loneliest times? Or should he put his fanboying over Blaine Anderson behind him and move on to a new fantasy, a more mature fantasy?

Could that fantasy include Blaine Anderson, too? This _new_ Blaine Anderson, viewed from a different perspective, a more realistic one?

It was a toss-up. Kurt needed to find a way of getting the upper hand long enough to decide.

"I don't trust you,” Kurt said. “I have no idea what your intentions are. I met you, I thought we shared ... a moment, and then you insulted me." Kurt ran his hands through his hair, his eyes darting around the room as if the answer was hiding somewhere under the bed or in his bags. Kurt’s gaze landed on his gear bag, which he had no need for in his motel room alone, but that he had brought up from the car out of fear that it might get stolen, and smiled. 

"If you want to talk to me," Kurt said, his voice silky smooth, "then you're going to have to compensate me for my time."

Blaine looked at Kurt blankly. "You - you want me to pay you?"

"You want to get to know me, know about this life I lead, then the best way to do that is for me demonstrate. And seeing as this is what I do for a living, I need to be paid."

' _There_ ,' Kurt thought. He widened his stance, crossed his arms defiantly in front of his chest, and let his inner Dominatrix shine through. ' _That should put him in his place_.' Kurt didn't necessarily want to scare Blaine off, but Blaine's speech intrigued him. What would Blaine do with this proposition? How far would he go with this charade if it was one?

"You ... you're going to dominate me?" Blaine asked. Kurt couldn't tell if he sounded excited or horrified.

"Yes," Kurt said. "Pay me to dominate you, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Blaine swallowed hard. He didn't know why, but his clothes felt too hot, too tight, and he started salivating. Blaine wasn't into BDSM. Both Sebastian and Mia had brought up the idea. Nothing too crazy – some handcuffs, a blindfold, a paddle - but he’d balked. So why did the idea of Kurt dominating him make him want to fall to his knees and thank God for whatever he had done right in the world? 

Blaine's heart raced. His tongue had suddenly gotten too big for his mouth, and he was incredibly hard.

"Fine," Blaine said, though it sounded more like a croak then an actual word.

Kurt's face didn't betray his shock.

And then Blaine shocked him again.

"Can I have you for the whole evening?"

Kurt resisted the urge to moan out loud at the thoughts flooding his mind, thoughts of Blaine's muscles bulging against leather restraints, his curls matted to his head, sweat rolling down his back from strain, standing spread eagle, with Kurt's hand prints painting his ass. Kurt allowed the silence to stretch on too long while he mused over that image. He returned to himself when he realized that he had the chance, here and now, to make that image a reality. 

"Are you sure?" Kurt tried to sound more amused than aroused. "I must warn you, I'm not cheap."

"I can pay," Blaine said smugly, though his voice sounded thin, unrecognizable to his own ears, wanton even. ' _Oh, God_ ,' he thought. ' _He won't need a whip. He's already won_.'

"Just so you know," Kurt said, letting his bitch flag fly, "your money doesn't impress me. Your stamina will." Kurt found himself moving, sliding up to Blaine like a cat, slinking along, ready to pounce on its new play thing. With every sway of his hips beneath his robe, Kurt watched Blaine's eyes grow wider, traveling down the length of his body and then back up again. By the time Blaine's eyes locked on Kurt's, Blaine’s hazel irises had nearly gone, his pupils utterly lust blown.

"Name your price."

Kurt tried to think of the highest amount he could possibly get away with. “$5,000," he said, conjuring the number up quickly as if it were his usual fee when, in fact, it was more than triple what he’d normally fetch. "And I get paid in advance." 

' _That’ll do the trick. Your move, Blaine Anderson_. _Time to see if you’re ready to put your money where your mouth is.'_

"Done," Blaine said, and reached into his pocket to get his wallet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for D/S situations and toys.

Kurt decided to follow Blaine in his Suzuki instead of riding with Blaine in his sports car so that Kurt would never, ever, ever have to go back to this Motel 6 again.  
  
They only drove about 30 minutes outside of Culver City, and the further they drove, the more exclusive the area became. They turned down a quiet street in a neighborhood called simply "The Hills". Once they passed the security gate, the houses got bigger and bigger.  
  
 _'Please don't be the biggest house on the street,'_ Kurt chanted in his head, _'please don't, please don't, please don't...oh, shit...'_  
  
Blaine got to the end of the cul-de-sac and stopped in front of an intimidatingly large black iron gate. Kurt watched Blaine punch a number into a key pad, and with a metallic rumble, the gate pulled slowly open. Kurt followed Blaine up the long driveway and when the house came into view, Kurt gulped. Indeed, Blaine's house was the largest one on the street.  
  
Kurt parked his Suzuki, which had blessedly been quiet for most of the trip, behind Blaine's car.  As Kurt stepped out, he couldn't help but let out a low whistle. Blaine smirked.  
  
"I guess my money can impress you," Blaine said, pulling a cover over his car.  
  
"Not at all," Kurt shot back quickly. "Just wondering how small your penis is if you need to own a house that big..."  
  
Blaine chuckled and shook his head. Kurt grabbed his gear bag and a small overnight bag from the trunk of his car and followed Blaine inside.  
  
"Uh...did you want a drink, or something to eat, or..." Blaine rambled. Blaine suddenly started to feel nervous about having Kurt in his house for the whole night. He hadn't really been thinking when he took Kurt up on his offer. Blaine just saw the opportunity to spend more time with Kurt and he grabbed it. Now, turning and seeing Kurt set his bag down and go through its contents, he could feel himself tremble involuntarily. Blaine noticed a pair of handcuffs, something that looked for sure like a whip, and another black leather _thing_ that Blaine couldn't even begin to identify.  
  
Kurt looked up at Blaine with an innocent smile. He had heard the tremor in Blaine's voice.  
  
"No thanks," Kurt answered sweetly. Kurt continued to look through his bag, purposefully lingering over several choice items - an extra large vibrator, a bar spreader, some zip ties, and a leather cock ring. In the still air of Blaine's foyer, Kurt could hear an audible gulp, and Kurt smiled wider. Kurt pulled out a folder.  
  
"Ah." Kurt stood, holding up the plain manilla folder for Blaine to see. "Here we are."  
  
Kurt took a good long look at Blaine from head to toe. Kurt couldn't help but notice that Blaine looked even more frightened than he did at the prospect of standing in the hallway of the Motel 6. Kurt kind of felt sorry for him.  
  
Kurt turned and eyed the white sofa in the living room.  
  
"Shall we sit down?" Kurt motioned behind him. "There are some things we need to go over first." Kurt turned and began to walk to the couch, but Blaine couldn't will himself to move. Kurt sat and spread some papers on a cushion. Blaine tried to get his right leg to move.  
  
Kurt's eyes locked on Blaine's, and he sighed. He got up off the couch and walked over to Blaine. Taking his hand, Kurt tugged gently.  
  
"One foot in front of he other, soldier," Kurt teased. "It usually works better that way."  
  
Blaine allowed himself to be led. On the way to the couch Kurt noticed Blaine take a side-long look at his gear bag, and chuckled. The sound of Kurt's laughter soothed Blaine's nerves, but only a little. How would that divine laugh sound when Kurt tied Blaine down, spreading him open, making him vulnerable? Blaine held Kurt's hand tighter at the thought.  
  
Kurt sat Blaine down and sat opposite him with the documents laid out between them. Blaine looked like he was going to be sick.  
  
"Hey." Kurt reached over and took Blaine's hand again. "It's okay." Kurt's musical voice calmed Blaine's nerves. "It's not at all what you think...unless that's what you really want." Kurt winked. Blaine finally remembered how to breathe.  
  
"What are these?" Blaine gestured toward the papers, but his eyes stayed locked on Kurt.  
  
"Just some forms and contracts. Standard stuff really." Kurt handed Blaine a pen, then started handing him the forms one at a time, explaining what they were.  
  
"This form releases me from all liability in case of injury."  
  
Blaine dropped his pen.  
  
Kurt shook his head, trying not to laugh.  
  
"This one states that you are healthy and disease free to the best of your knowledge...this one is a confidentiality agreement. Basically, I don't tell anyone what we do when we're together, and you don't either."  
  
Blaine looked at the forms he had in his hands so far.  
  
"Uh...should I get my lawyer to look at these?" Blaine looked overwhelmed.  
  
"Only if you don't mind him knowing what you're doing."  
  
Blaine signed the forms.  
  
"This form says that as long as I am your dom, that I will be your only dom." Kurt handed Blaine the pink form. "If you get another dom, it dissolves our contract."  
  
"Why?" Blaine wasn't sure why he was asking. He didn't picture himself going to see another dominatrix.  
  
"Because a sub can only have one dominatrix seeing to his needs, "Kurt explained. "A dominatrix can have several subs at once, but a sub can only have one dom."  
  
"Do you have many subs?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Yes." Kurt looked Blaine in the eye as he answered his question. "I take on about twelve a year. Some are brand new and some I've seen for years."  
  
Blaine suddenly felt a hot stab of jealousy.  
  
Finally Kurt handed Blaine a thick packet of papers held together by a staple in the corner. It had multiple columns running down the middle and was printed on both sides.  
  
"This is a list of hard, soft, and non-negotiable limits," Kurt explained. "You check off the things you like, what you're willing to try, and the things that you will never do."  
  
Blaine scanned over the document. He felt Kurt's eyes follow his own gaze down the page, and knew his face was becoming brighter and brighter red. He tentatively started checking items off. After the third page Blaine realized just how vanilla his sex life really was. He looked over some of the marks Kurt had already made.  
  
"You don't kiss?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"And you don't get naked?" Blaine couldn't help the subtle whine of disappointment in his voice. Kurt laughed.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Why not?" Blaine looked up at Kurt, and couldn't help but notice something shift on his features, just for a second. Then it was gone.  
  
"Because those acts are intimate, and I'm not here for intimacy...not in that way, at least."  
  
"And you don't have sex with your clients?" Blaine tried to sound nonchalant, but managed only to sound even more disappointed than before.  
  
Kurt smirked.  
  
"No," he said.  
  
"Have you ever?" Blaine asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Would you ever consider making an exception?" Blaine's voice hitched in his throat as he saw another slight change in Kurt's demeanor. Kurt's eyes slowly widened as he licked his lips. His gaze raked slowly down Blaine's body hungrily.  
  
Blaine watched the change, fascinated.  
  
"Possibly," Kurt breathed. "But not tonight."  
  
Kurt gathered up Blaine's papers in a hurry, shoving them haphazardly in the folder. He took a moment to look over the list of limits, and cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"I can work with this."  
  
Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his heart thrumming like wild horses' hooves beneath his chest.  
  
"So, where do you want to do this?"  
  
Blaine seemed surprised by the question.  
  
"Wh-what?"  
  
"Some men like to be dominated in the bedroom," Kurt explained. "Some don't."  
  
"Where have you...uh...done this?" Blaine's eyes shifted around the room, imaging all the places Kurt could dominate him. His palms started sweating.  
  
"Kitchen counters, sofas, beds, car hoods..." Kurt's eyes roamed the living room as he spoke, landing on a large instrument in the corner. "Pianos..."  
  
Blaine smiled at the implication.  
  
"I think the bedroom will be fine."  
  
"Well, then. Lead the way." Kurt retrieved his gear bag and followed Blaine through the house. Blaine's bedroom was massive, and tastefully decorated, but the real masterpiece was the bed, which was somehow much larger than a king. Kurt ran his hands along the edge of the deep purple bedspread, admiring the feel of it under his fingertips.  
  
"Wow, you really need room to move while you sleep, hmm?"  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt, watched him slide gracefully across the room as his eyes moved over Blaine's furniture, lingering momentarily to gaze out the window at the view over the valley. Here he was, Blaine's exquisite angel, in  his bedroom, walking around as if he owned the place. It turned Blaine on so much. He wanted this man, wanted him badly. Blaine had an overwhelming desire to touch him, to smell him...to taste him.  
  
Blaine came up behind him. Kurt could feel Blaine put his hands on his shoulders. Kurt's breath hitched in his throat. It had been so long since someone had touched him like that; commanding, but gentle. Blaine massaged the back of Kurt's neck with his thumbs, applying firm pressure to his tight muscles. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to be pulled in by that touch. After a moment too long of indulging in Blaine's warmth, he pushed those thoughts, those needs aside.  
  
"What are you doing, Blaine?" Kurt asked, his voice controlled, and smooth like a sheet of ice. "You're not seducing me."  
  
Blaine ran his hands slowly down Kurt's back.  
  
"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered. "I'm just fantasizing about this going a certain way."  
  
Kurt turned to face him; the glint in his eye chilled Blaine.  
  
"Well, let me show you how this is actually going to go." Kurt put a surprisingly strong hand on Blaine's shoulder and pushed firmly down. Caught in Kurt's mischievous gaze, wide hazel eyes held prisoner by lightning blue, Blaine had no choice but to fall to his knees.  
  
"Head down." Kurt's hand moved to the back of Blaine's head and tilted it down.  
  
Kurt walked in a slow circle around Blaine.  
  
"Now, I'm going to go in the other room and...get ready for you. When I get back I expect you to be here...completely naked...with your hands on your knees..." Blaine saw a polished leather shoe come up between his legs and press delicately onto his crotch.  
  
"And no touching. This doesn't get hard until I say it does."  
  
Blaine watched Kurt's foot disappear, and heard his footsteps retreat into the bathroom.  
  
Blaine shivered.  
  
 _'Too late.'_  
  
Blaine nearly tripped and fell on his face as he rushed, fumbling to follow Kurt's orders. In record time he was naked and on his knees. While he waited, anticipating Kurt's return, another fleeting thought of 'what the hell am I doing?' flashed through his head. He thought about the slightly cold tinge to Kurt's enchanting voice, the crackle in his eyes, the wry smirk on his no-nonsense features.  
  
Blaine knew he was in over his head.  
  
Immediately, something else replaced his fear. The feeling of Kurt's body beneath his hands, the hitch in his breath when Blaine had tenderly touched Kurt's neck...Blaine had affected him. He hadn't imagined it. Blaine wondered what it would take for this man to fall apart in his hands.  
  
Blaine heard the door creak slowly open, and from the angle where he knelt on the carpet all he could see were Kurt's black boots. Kurt stopped directly in front of Blaine, and he could make out just a bit of his outfit. Leather. Definitely leather. Blaine itched to tilt his head up and take a peek.  
  
From above his head, Blaine heard a loud crack.  
  
"Mmm, wow, Blaine," Kurt purred in a silky voice. "You look so sexy like this - kneeling at my feet."  
  
Blaine froze.  
  
Kurt chuckled low, devilishly. Blaine felt rough fingers card through his hair and pull, almost to the point of pain...but not quite. Blaine bit back a whimper, fighting back the urge to become hard, and failing. Kurt noticed the obvious twitch from Blaine's cock, and chuckled some more.  
  
"But not quite as obedient as I would like." Kurt released the grip on Blaine's curls, and Blaine heard another crack, but this one was accompanied by a sharp sting to his bare thigh. Blaine wanted to hiss, but he bit his tongue. What he couldn't bite back was the moan.  
  
Why was this so fucking hot?  
  
Kurt backed away a little.  
  
"At the root of a sub's existence is obedience," Kurt said in that same soft purr, his voice sounding vaguely dangerous. "And learning obedience requires discipline."  
  
Blaine's cock twitched again, and he swallowed hard.  
  
He knew Kurt had seen.  
  
"I think it's about time that you learn what I do, princess." Kurt grabbed Blaine's hair again and tugged sharply up, and definite signal for Blaine to stand.  
  
Blaine climbed to his feet and for the first time got a good look at Kurt. Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
"Let's get this party started...shall we?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For your reading pleasure, I give you part one of dominating Blaine ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for D/S situations, toys, butt play, orgasm denial, slight beating, light slut shaming, foul language. Sorry if I forgot anything.

Blaine couldn't stop staring, his mouth hanging slack as if he had just been slapped. His beautiful, fragile, pale angel had turned into a wicked black swan, in a leather cat suit, stiletto boots, and smoky black eye liner that was both exquisitely beautiful and wholly terrifying.  
  
Kurt moved quickly, and made short work of trussing Blaine up, using quite a bit of nylon rope to tie Blaine's wrists, one to each bed post. Considering how large his bed was, Blaine was surprised Kurt would even have enough rope to do the job.  
  
 _'Who other than a construction worker would even need that much rope?'_ Blaine allowed himself to think before his arms were being pulled impossibly far apart, almost to the brink of being uncomfortable, but far enough to throw off his center of gravity. His calves strained to keep him from swaying.  
  
"My God." Kurt tugged slightly on the ropes to make sure they were taut. "This bed of yours is a dream come true, Blaine. So many possibilities..."  
  
Blaine lifted his head to follow Kurt's movements around the room...and received a sharp smack to the back of his left thigh, close to his buttock.  
  
"Head down!" Kurt growled.  
  
Learning to be obedient was not quite as simple as it sounded, and almost an hour later Blaine thought he would finally snap.  
  
Kurt's preferred method of discipline for disobedient subs was orgasm denial. The first thing Kurt had done was to go through Blaine's own toy drawer, which was in the small dresser beside his bed.  
  
Kurt giggled when he found what he was looking for, and he hid it slyly behind his back in case Blaine disobeyed and looked up again. Kurt came up behind Blaine and slowly rubbed something small and round up the back of Blaine's legs. Blaine knew immediately what Kurt had found, and a thrill of excitement shot through him, causing his entire body to shiver.  
  
Kurt watched as Blaine's whole body reacted, a wicked grin curling his lips.  
  
"Ah. my princess likes that, huh?" Kurt continued to run the beads over Blaine's flesh, watching as goosebumps formed every where Kurt touched.  
  
"I'll bet these are your dirty little secret, hmm?" Kurt whispered against the skin of Blaine's neck. "I bet no one knows about these but you. You can respond."  
  
Blaine was taken back by being given permission to speak. When he didn't respond quick enough, he got another smack on the opposite thigh, harder this time. Blaine still wasn't sure what he was being hit with. Whatever it was, it was hard, leather, and stung like a bitch, but once the pain ebbed, it left the most fantastic tingling sensation.  
  
"When I tell you to speak, you speak, princess."  
  
Kurt kept his voice controlled at all times. His calm, cool persona frightened Blaine a little. Kurt had already been so full of surprises. Blaine wasn't at all sure exactly what Kurt was capable of.  
  
Blaine opened his mouth to speak, when he felt something soft, like a silk tie, fasten around his mouth.  
  
"Since you apparentlly don't know when to speak, then I don't think you'll need to speak."  
  
Blaine held perfectly still as Kurt tied a knot, pullling the fabric tight. Blaine's first instinct was to whimper, to shake his head from side to side and scream through the gag until he felt two firm hands, soft and smooth, running down his back, massaging the tight muscles, working out the knots.  
  
"Just relax a little. Try not to tense up too much."  
  


* * *

  
  
Kurt stared at Blaine's back, the strong ripple of muscles every time Kurt smacked him with his riding crop, the way his buttocks went taut when he tried to keep his balance. Kurt's voice might have been smooth as ice, but inside he was screaming - screaming to tear off the cat suit, lay his body over this man, and ride him into the mattress.  
  
Kurt backed away and dropped his hands. He took a deep breath, regaining his focus.  
  
"It's a shame you never told anyone about these, sweetheart," Kurt said, returning his attention to Blaine's ass. "The best way to enjoy these is with someone else, and your ass..." Kurt stopped to hum appreciatively, "...was meant to be worshipped."  
  
Blaine willed himself to stop blushing. Having relaxed around the gag in his mouth, he couldn't help a smile from forming on his lips.  
  
Blaine heard a cap flip open, and he froze. He heard the obscene squelch of lube being squeezed from a bottle. Then he felt Kurt's hand firmly pull aside one cheek, and something hard and slick being pressed to his entrance.  
  
"Just relax." Kurt's sweet, soothing voice returned, and Blaine's body reacted immediately, his heels hitting the floor and his muscles going slack.  
  
"Very good, sweetheart," he heard Kurt coo, and the balls were slowly being pushed into his opening, easily slipping through the ring of muscle one by one. When they were all inside, Kurt pulled on the end, allowing the last ball to slip back out, and then slowly pushed it back in. In, out, in, out. Blaine knew Kurt was watching as he slowly moved that last ball at a constant, shallow rhythm.  
  
"God, Blaine." Kurt murmured. "You're so beautiful. Such a good boy. Look at how you're taking this. Keep being a good boy, and you might actually get to cum."  
  
Blaine wanted to burst, wanted to toss his head back and moan. The pressure of Kurt's hand felt so good keeping him open while the anal beads were pushed slowly inside. At this point, when he was alone, he would be keening , pumping his own cock hard, chasing his own release. But trying to maintain perfect control while this hot-as-fuck guy in a leather cat suit played with his ass was the sweetest form of torture. He was dying to fall apart, but he could do it. He could be a good boy.  
  
Someone else obviously had other ideas.  
  
Kurt stilled his hand when he noticed Blaine had become fully aroused, his cock twitching and leaking, begging for release.  
  
"Hmm." Kurt murmured playfully. "You don't quite have this guy under control yet, do you."  
  
Blaine had squeezed his eyes shut to try and maintain control. Blaine felt the hard leather object rub menacingly from his jaw to his cheek.  
  
"Nuh-uh-uh," Kurt sang sweetly. "Open your eyes, princess."  
  
Blaine opened his eyes, and it clicked. The nicknames - princess for when he was disobedient, and sweetheart for when he was good. Blaine finally got a good look at the object that had been menacing him. The riding crop was brown and thick, made of twisted leather. It looked like it had been used...a lot.  
  
Kurt reached from behind Blaine and quickly slipped something over the base of Blaine's cock, securing his balls. Blaine did whimper this time. He realized he had been ringed.  
  
"That's right, princess." Kurt almost laughed. "If you can't keep that thing reigned in, I'll do it for you."  
  
Blaine felt another piece of fabric make it's way around his eyes.  
  
"And since you still can't seem to follow orders," Kurt said, tying the blindfold tight, "I don't think you need to see anymore."  
  
Here Blaine was, tied to his bed, blindfolded, gagged, cock ringed, with anal beads in his ass, and his entire body burning for release.  
  
This was officially the best evening _ever_!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's dominating Blaine part 2 ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for spanking, ice play, panic attack, bondage, butt play, cock rings...and lots of begging ;)

Kurt didn't give Blaine too long to adjust to his current situation before the spanking began. Thankfully, Kurt didn't use the riding crop.  
  
"I could," Kurt explained. "I could light you up. Paint you with stripes until that delicious ass of yours is swollen, pink, and hot to the touch. And then everytime you sat, or slept, or someone pounded into your ass, you would have to think of me."  
  
Blaine bit the silk tie until he was sure he would bite right through it.  
  
Kurt rubbed the flat of his smooth palm in soothing circles over Blaine's skin. The sensation of Kurt delicately rubbing Blaine's ass was arousing in the strangest way...especially since he knew what was coming next. Blaine felt Kurt's hand disappear. Behind the blindfold, Blaine squeezed his eyes against the impending slap. When it came, many things happened to Blaine at once.  
  
Kurt had been caressing Blaine's left cheek, so he automatically assumed that was the one that would receive the smack. Blaine anticipated the blow, and tensed. Instead, Kurt smacked him on the right side, throwing Blaine off balance. Next, his body clenched around the anal beads, which shifted inside him, traveling further up his body and hitting his prostate.  
  
That's when Blaine screamed. His own voice sounded muffled and strained around the gag, and he had to admit, it was hot as hell.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Kurt reprimanded. "You're a difficult man to break, I'll give you that much, princess."  
  
Then Blaine heard something that frightened him more than the binding, the gagging, and the spanking.  
  
He heard Kurt leave.  
  
Not to the bathroom, but out the bedroom door.  
  
Silence. Painful silence, except for the sound of his own breathing and the drumming of his heart beat in his ears.  
  
Blaine shook his head to shift the blindfold, but it was on too tight.  
  
Blaine pulled at the ropes around his wrists, but stopped when he felt them cut in.  
  
He was fully aroused and trapped.  
  
Blaine began to panic.  
  
Kurt rushed back into the room. Once again, warm hands were rubbing up and down Blaine's back. That soft, soothing voice gently shushed him. Blaine didn't realized he was thrashing against the nylon ropes. He didn't realize he was crying.  
  
Kurt hugged Blaine from behind, and held him strong against his chest.  
  
"That's how I know you haven't broken, little one," Kurt said gently. "One of the roots of the dom/sub relationship is trust. I'm here to take care of you. I'm not going to leave you. You have to let go and let me take control."  
  
Kurt rested his temple against Blaine's sweaty back, rubbing soothing circles and strokes up and down his sides. Blaine began to calm. His breathing evened out. In Kurt's soothing words, he had found his mantra.  
  
_I'm not going to leave you._  
  
Kurt undid Blaine's gag, and Blaine sucked in a deep breath of air, feeling suddenly foolish for crying.  
  
Here he was vulnerable, his entire body under Kurt's absolute control, and unintentionally Kurt had stumbled upon the one thing that truly scared him.  
  
He was afraid of people leaving him. He was scared of being alone.  
  
"Remember..." Kurt cupped Blaine's face in his hands. "You can stop this whenever you want. Do you remember the safe word?"  
  
Blaine didn't say anything. Kurt was confused for only a moment before a wide smile spread across his features.  
  
"Blaine," he whispered. "You may respond."  
  
"Yes," Blaine said without hesitation, his voice hoarse and cracking. "Yes, I remember."  
  
Blaine couldn't see Kurt, but he didn't need to. That pale, flawless complexion; those one of a kind spectacular eyes; and those perfect lips would be with Blaine forever now, everytime he closed his eyes.  
  
"Just one word, Blaine." Kurt's voice was right beside Blaine's ear now. "And I untie you."  
  
Blaine didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't shake his head.  
  
"You may respond."  
  
Blaine took another deep breath through his nose.  
  
"I want to finish this."  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"Good boy," he cooed. "That's my good boy."  
  
Kurt's voice was low again, but not so dangerous anymore. Blaine let go. He gave in. He had been resisting before. Resisting being spanked. Resisted being gagged. Gave in to his fear.  
  
Now he gave in to Kurt.  
  
At the moment Kurt whispered, "Why don't we cool you down a little..." and pressed a cube of ice to Blaine's overheated chest, Blaine broke.  
  
The ice melted quickly, sandwiched between the heat of Kurt's hand and the heat of Blaine's skin. Little rivers of freezing cold water flowed down Blaine's chest, one dripping over his left nipple, another weaving through the leather of the cock ring, wrapping around the base of his dick and dripping down off his balls. It ran down his legs to pool at his feet. The spot where Kurt held the ice against his skin burned with cold, but Blaine didn't move, didn't squeeze his eyes, didn't grind his teeth.  
  
Kurt nearly cheered.  
  
And God was he hard.  
  
"That's it, sweetheart." Blaine could hear the smile in Kurt's voice, and he fought not to react. "Good boy."  
  
After a few more tortuous seconds, the ice had melted completely, and the cold spots on Blaine's chest seemed to flush immediately with heat.  
  
"Bravo!" Kurt purred. "Well done." Kurt ran his nails slowly down Blaine's back, delighting in the marks that followed the trail of his fingers. "I think that deserves a reward, don't you? What can I do for you? What do you want now most of all?"  
  
_'I want you. I want you. God, I want you.'_  
  
Blaine held his tongue. Kurt's smile radiated.  
  
"You may respond."  
  
"I want to cum," Blaine rushed out.  
  
"You want to cum, Blaine?" Kurt teased. "Is that what you want? Please respond."  
  
"Yes." Blaine swallowed hard, images rushing his head. Vivid images of kissing Kurt; of holding Kurt's face between his hands as he slowly teased Kurt's tongue with his own.  
  
"Yes, Kurt." His hands were itching to touch this man, to wrap his arms around Kurt's narrow waist, hold him close.    
  
"Yes, please." His body burned. He wanted to grab Kurt's hips, slide into him, and pound away until he was the one making Kurt scream.  
  
Trapped with the real life image of Blaine tied up and helpless, sinful body on display, Kurt was dying. He needed his own release so badly. This had never happened to him before. He was good at his job, and to a point he enjoyed it. Because he enjoyed the control. He didn't find it sexually appealing...or he hadn't until right now.  
  
"Ask me," Kurt said, his voice thick, seeping in through Blaine's ear and dancing around in his head. "Ask me to let you cum."  
  
Kurt took Blaine's cock in his hand, and smacked Blaine's left butt cheek hard. Blaine saw stars, felt electricity buzz through his entire body. The smack to his ass made him clench around the beads, the beads shifting forward to hit his prostate. This time, the hit also propelled him forward into Kurt's hand, forcing him to caress Blaine's length. The blindfold, not allowing Blaine to see what was going on around him, forced him to focus only on the sensations of pleasure and pain.  
  
Blaine wanted to cry. He bit his tongue.  
  
"Talk to me Blaine," Kurt commanded as he continued to smack Blaine - sometimes a gentle teasing pat on his ass with a twist of Kurt's wrist just beneath the head of Blaine's cock, and sometimes an almost unbearable wallop that propelled Blaine forward involuntarily.  
  
"Tell me you want to cum."  
  
Blaine's lips trembled. He could make Kurt stop, or he could ask Kurt to let him cum. Both pleas tingled on his lips, sore from where he bit them mercilessly with each hard spank.  
  
In the end, his newfound nature won.  
  
"Please, Kurt? Please can I cum?"  
  
Kurt hit Blaine harder, alternating sides with no discernible pattern, and increasing to a maddening pace.  
  
"Beg me, Blaine," Kurt said, fighting to keep control, his own body betraying him while Blaine was safely tucked in the dark behind his blindfold, none the wiser.  
  
The word 'beg' shot straight to Blaine's cock, straining against Kurt's hand to be free of the ring.  
  
It affected Kurt as well. His own erection pressed painfully into his leather suit, and Kurt considered rubbing up against Blaine's gorgeous body to get the friction he so desperately needed.  
  
Kurt squashed those thoughts immediately. He would never take advantage of a sub that way. Especially not Blaine.  
  
Kurt spanked Blaine just a little harder when he didn't respond.  
  
"Beg me, Blaine!" Kurt almost ground out between gritted teeth, his control definitely slipping.  
  
Blaine's control had long gone, and at the marvelous half-pain half-pleasure of Kurt's now frenzied pace, a string of endless rambling spilled from Blaine's swollen lips.  
  
"Please, Kurt. Oh God, please!" Blaine begged with the most glorious high pitched whine in his voice. "Please, Kurt. I'm begging you! I'll do anything. Whatever you want, it's yours, just please, let me cum..."  
  
Kurt was close. So close that for a split second, he almost forgot about Blaine's release as he tried desperately to ignore his own.  
  
Blaine knew any second Kurt would remove the cock ring, and Blaine would cum loudly, embarrassingly. He didn't care. His dignity was long gone the moment he let that dark and devious man tie him to his own bed. But in that moment when he anticipated what would be a tremendous relief of pressure, he had forgotten one tiny thing.  
  
With one deft finger wrapped beneath the thin cord, Kurt pushed on the balls in Blaine's ass with as much force as he dared, shoving them almost too roughly against Blaine's prostate before pulling them out in one swift motion.  
  
Blaine was already screaming and convulsing when Kurt removed the ring.  
  
Blaine came hard. He never thought it was going to end. All he felt was the mounting heat in his stomach shooting through his veins like it might rip him open from the inside. His heart was beating too quickly, his breath was coming too fast, and he had lost control of every limb all at the same time.  
  
If not for the rope keeping him tethered to the bed, he would have been writhing on the floor.  
  
Blaine's extreme reaction to the mind-blowing pleasure that was surging relentlessly through his body masked Kurt's own gasp of pleasure as he came, almost folding in on himself as the intensity of the moment overtook him. Kurt came down far too quickly, and only wanted to curl up on the floor and revel in the buzz that vibrated his entire body.  
  
He couldn't, because he wasn't done. He saw Blaine's body go slack, and he rushed to grab him before he dislocated a shoulder.  
  
Blaine couldn't move, couldn't stand, could barely think. Everything was warm, tingling, relaxed, exhausted, sated...free? He did. He felt free. He felt like his mind had separated from his body and had risen in euphoria away from his life. He crashed back to earth with the feeling of a hand wrapping around his waist, holding him upright while releasing his wrists from their ties. Blaine's head dropped, sweat dripping down his forehead, his legs shaking uncontrollably.  
When the blindfold was removed from his eyes, he was a little disappointed that he wasn't actually in heaven, but that was okay. The only true angel he had ever met was right there with him.  
  
Kurt looked down into Blaine's heavy lidded eyes.  
  
"Are you okay, Blaine?"  
  
Blaine smiled at the sound of Kurt's voice. His sweet angel had returned.  
  
Blaine tried to blink, tried to move, tried to talk, but none of those functions seemed to be working. He didn't even know when exactly Kurt had laid him out on the soiled bed spread. He was sure now that at some point he had blacked out.  
  
"Blaine?" The angel spoke again, and this time, his eyes were filled with concern. "Blaine? Please say something?"  
  
When Blaine finally did find his voice, just a jagged, throaty whisper, he could only think of one thing to say.  
  
"Can I keep you?"  
  
Kurt's eyes became a little misty as he looked down at this wrecked, gorgeous man. He didn't know if he should take Blaine seriously. Was he sincere, or was this just post-orgasmic infatuation?  
  
He saw Blaine fighting sleep, and since Kurt had all his wits about him, he decided to indulge in a harmless little fantasy.  
  
"If we had met earlier...or in another lifetime...then Blaine Anderson, I would be all yours."


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine woke up, a little confused and extremely sore. He didn't remember when he had fallen asleep, but he did remember Kurt. Kurt had untied his hands and laid him out on the bed. Kurt had gotten a bowl and filled it with warm soapy water. He had carefully prepared Blaine by cradling him with towels so as not to get the bed wet. Sitting gingerly beside Blaine, Kurt painstakingly sponged Blaine down, aware of all the welts and bruises that littered his skin. Then Kurt had straddled Blaine's naked body and rubbed him down with baby oil.  
  
"Do you do this for all of your subs?" Blaine had mumbled into his pillow. He rembered Kurt chuckling lightly.  
  
"Only the ones who pay me to spend the night."  
  
"And how many is that?"  
  
"Including you?" Kurt giggled. "Only one."  
  
After that, Blaine melted beneath Kurt's talented fingers. Blaine had felt so cared for, so pampered, his mind drifted away. The last thing he remembered was Kurt curling up behind him and wrapping his arms around him.  
  
Blaine smiled at the memory. He didn't want to move, but he was cold. That's when he noticed he was in bed alone.  
  
"Kurt?" he called into the darkness.  
  
It took Blaine a while to get out of bed. Every thing screamed at him to lay back down. He threw on a pair of sleep pants and an old college t-shirt. He walked through the house, rubbing his wrists, looking into the shadows for his angel.  
  
Blaine found Kurt sitting on the sofa, looking toward the glass patio doors. He was wearing one of Blaine's white dress shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. The  moonlight from outside spread across the wood floor in a single beam, and in its wake, Kurt's skin glowed. Blaine liked the look of Kurt, sitting demurely in his shirt, looking out of the window. He looked elegant. He looked refined.  
  
He looked like he belonged there.  
  
For a moment, Blaine allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to wake up to that image every day.  
  
Kurt held his phone tightly in his grip. Blaine wondered if Kurt had called home to check up on his kids. It looked almost as if Kurt had been crying. At the very least, he looked tired.  
  
"I woke up and you were gone," Blaine said quietly. "I was afraid you had gone home."  
  
"I promised you could have me for the night," Kurt said with a weak smile, looking up at Blaine as he sat beside Kurt. "It's just been a long time since I've woken up in a bed that wasn't mine. I'm sorry if I woke you."  
  
Blaine carefully put a hand on Kurt's knee.  
  
The silence was painful between them. Blaine wanted desperately to know this man, but he didn't want to intrude.  
  
Kurt sighed.  
  
"Is it wrong that I want to remember all of this?" Kurt whispered. Blaine furrowed his brow. He didn't understand.  
  
Blaine took Kurt's hand, tugging a little to make Kurt look at him.  
  
"Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know." Blaine's voice was soft, his eyes open and honest.  
  
Kurt chuckled.  
  
"Well, that would be a lot," he said.  
  
"Then start out with something small, I guess?" Blaine rubbed the back of Kurt's hand with his thumb. Kurt felt his heart skip.  
  
"Okay...uh," Kurt rolled his eyes skyward, thinking. "Ok, well, I'll start with the obvious. I didn't grow up wanting to be a dominatrix."  
  
"What did you want to be?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Actually, I wanted to perform on Broadway." Kurt shifted his position a little to look at Blaine better.  
  
Blaine couldn't imagine this beautiful angel, with his light lilting voice, singing. Blaine was sure it would be magic.  
  
"Would you sing for me?" Blaine asked hopefully. Kurt shook his head.  
  
"I don't know you well enough."  
  
Blaine pulled a face, looking shocked.  
  
"But...but what about..." he sputtered, looking in the direction of the bedroom.  
  
Kurt laughed. The sound was intoxicating. Blaine knew he would never grow tired of hearing it.  
  
"That, honey, is work. I don't learn anything about you by spanking you."  
  
Blaine couldn't help but blush.  
  
"Ok," he said, trying to hide his momentary embarrassment, "then ask me something."  
  
Kurt had a million questions, mostly about the last few hours. Kurt replayed the whole evening, but he found he couldn't pinpoint any one individual event he could ask Blaine about. The whole thing was a whirlwind in his mind, all bound around one singular feeling...and he wasn't ready for it.  
  
Kurt's roving eyes landed back on the piano.  
  
"Do you really know how to play that?" Kurt asked, motioning toward the grand piano by the French doors, "or is it just a prop?"  
  
Blaine laughed bitterly.  
  
"No, I play. Have since I was three." Blaine stood up and walked over to the instrument. "I've loved it since the first moment I felt the keys underneath my fingertips. It's my escape, really."  
  
"Your escape from what?" Kurt asked. Blaine ran his fingers over the keys, slowly pecking out a tune.  
  
"From life," Blaine said.  
  
This time it was Kurt's turn to laugh bitterly.  
  
"Please tell me you're not another star with everything who's going to moan about how all of your wealth doesn't make you happy."  
  
Blaine's fingers ghosted over a few more keys, then stopped.  
  
"It doesn't."  
  
Suddenly, Kurt felt terribly ashamed. Kurt didn't live Blaine's life, didn't walk Blaine's path. Sure Blaine had money and this big, expensive house, but sitting alone in the dark and the quiet Kurt realized that Blaine's life seemed lonely. Sure, Kurt's house was too small, and he was way too poor. But he had Dave and the kids. They lifted him up when he was low. They supported him when he needed.  
  
He couldn't imagine a life without them.  
  
"I'm sorry." Kurt stood and walked to Blaine, standing behind him and lightly put his arms around him. Kurt heard Blaine's breath hitch in his throat, and loosened his grip, imaging how sore Blaine must be. Blaine grabbed Kurt's wrists, and wrapped Kurt''s arms around him, hugging them tight to him, unwilling to let go.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Kurt whispered against the soft cotton shoulder of Blaine's t-shirt.  
  
"I'm thinking that I don't want to go back to bed again." Blaine's voice wavered slightly. "When I wake up you might be gone...for good this time." Blaine turned in Kurt's embrace to look at him, face to face.  
  
Kurt's eyes shimmered like diamonds in the darkness, but they had lost a little of their fire.  
  
"I promise," Kurt said sincerely. "I won't leave without saying good bye to you."  
  
Blaine looked down and nodded.  
  
"You look quite awake." Kurt smiled. "And we still have time. Is there something else you would like to do?"  
  
Blaine thought, then he picked up a remote from the lid of the piano, and pointed it toward the wall. Suddenly, a quiet tune filled the room. Kurt looked around, surprised. Blaine stepped back a bit, and extended a hand to Kurt.  
  
"May I have this dance?"  
  
Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's.  
  
"Yes. Yes, you may."  
  
Blaine held him, Kurt's body soft  and warm as they swayed slowly to the music. Blaine ran a hand up Kurt's back, rubbing small circles into Kurt's skin. Kurt sighed and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. They danced through the beam of moonlight, and Blaine closed his eyes.  
  
 _'This is perfect,'_ Blaine thought.  
  
Blaine lost himself in the moment, lost himself in the idea of Kurt being his forever, cursing the song he chose for ever having an end. But when the next song came, and Kurt didn't let go, they continued to dance, flowing seamlessly from one song to the next to the next, until the CD that was playing had ended, and they continued to dance in the silence.  
  
Only after a glimmer of sunlight could be seen peeking through the windows did Kurt look back into Blaine's eyes.  
  
Blaine expected this to be the beginning of good-bye.  
  
The next words Kurt spoke gripped harder at Blaine's heart.  
  
"Take me back to bed." Kurt's eyes, for once, were vulnerable. "Take me back to bed and hold me."  
  
Blaine took Kurt's hand and led him back to the bedroom, and even though Blaine's bed was massive, the two of them cuddled together in the center, wrapped as closely around each other as humaly possible, and drifted quickly back to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Blaine sat in the story meeting, listening to the executive director of Sing, Brad Lee, drone on and on about the schedule for the rest of the season: story boards, new music ideas, basically Blaine's life for the next six months. He vaguely recognized that what was going on around him concerned him to a degree, but he couldn't focus. All he could think of was flawless silky skin, eyes like sapphires, and those all too tempting lips that he had spent so much time trying to capture, and the enigmatic smile that followed when Kurt refused.  
  
Saying good-bye the next morning had been bittersweet. They had slept in, still wrapped in each other's arms. At some point they realized together that not matter how incredible lying together was, they would eventually have to get up and greet the day. And if they hadn't realized it already, their cell phones ringing surely reminded them.  
  
A blissful, perfect moment, slapped in the face by realitiy.  
  
Dave called Kurt, asking when he would be home, and to please pick up spaghetti sauce and milk.  
  
Blaine's agent called to remind him of this useless meeting. What did it matter if he attended or not? He really didn't have much of a say in how things went anyway.  
  
Blaine did everything in his power to try and make Kurt stay. But in the end, Kurt had to leave.  
  
The moment Kurt's small silver car drove out of sight, Blaine's heart broke. He had put on the clothes Kurt had spent the night in, hid under his blankets, and surrendered to the darkness. He didn't get out of bed all day.  
  
Depression settled over Blaine, seeping in through his pores, as his life was planned out for him with no hope of seeing Kurt in sight.  
  
Until a single magical word seemed to permeate Blaine's thoughts...hiatus.  
  
Filming was on hiatus for two weeks. How did he forget? For the first time that day Blaine smiled a real, genuine smile.  
  
Before the meeting was even over, Blaine was pulling out his iPhone.  
  
 _'What are you doing right now?'_  


* * *

  
Kurt heard his iPhone chirp, and he pulled it from his pocket. He smiled when he saw the message, and who it was from.  
  
Kurt had been pleasantly surprised when Blaine had asked for Kurt's number before he left. Kurt thought he was just being nice. Kurt had certainly felt something between them in the short time they were together, but part of his mind - the part that had never quite recovered from the trauma of high school - had him convinced that he was the only one.  
  
Kurt bit his lip as he sent back a response.  
  
 _'I'm getting ready for work.'_  
  
With those five words, Blaine's heart shattered all over again. His entire forward momentum stopped. Of course, Kurt was still working. It wasn't like anything was going on between them. Blaine was just another client.  
  
' _Blaine?'_  
  
Blaine looked at his name across the screen, but he felt frozen, numb. He didn't even know how to respond.  
  
Suddenly, his phone rang.  
  
"Hello? Blaine? What's going on?"  
  
"Uh, nothing. I'm sorry. You said you were getting ready for work, and I...uh..."  
  
Kurt laughed, and Blaine's heart recovered slightly.  
  
"No. No, Blaine. My day job. I teach an aerobics class down at the rec center."  
  
Blaine sighed in relief. The color returned to his face, and he continued walking, seeing his goal in his sights.  
  
"Oh," Blaine said, sounding relieved. On the other end of the line, Kurt blushed.  
  
"I decided to take a small sabbatical...from the whole dominatrix thing. I  mean, seeing as how you were so generous when you paid me, I thought I could afford a little time off."  
  
"Yeah...well, good." Blaine had mixed feelings. He was glad his angel wouldn't be dominating anyone else for a while, but in the mean time, would Kurt take Blaine up on his offer?  
  
"Blaine?" Blaine could hear Kurt getting into his car. "Is there something wrong?"  
  
"No," Blaine said quickly, trying not to lose his nerve. "Not at all. I just..."  
  
Now or never, Anderson!  
  
"...wanted to make you a proposition..."  
  
Kurt smiled. He wanted to giggle, but he settled for spinning a little in place before easing down into his car.  
  
"Well, Mr. Anderson." Kurt put his keys in the passenger seat and sat back, leaning his head against the head rest and closing his eyes. "I'm all ears. What do you want?"  


* * *

  
Blaine had barely said good bye to Kurt and hit the 'end call' button before he was driving off the lot. He managed to make it home in record time. He already had an image of everything he would need, and packed quickly, grabbing several overnight bags and filling them clothes, socks, and his Motley toiletry bag.  
  
Blaine was busy loading up the trunk of his car when Sebastian's silver Maserati pulled up the drive. Blaine was so focused on getting on the road, he didn't even have time to be annoyed at Sebastian's unwelcome intrusion.  
  
Blaine ducked back into his house with Sebastian hot on his heels.  
  
"So," Sebsatian said, racing to catch up to Blaine. "You seem to be in a hurry. Where are we going?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Blaine didn't look up at Sebastian as he grabbed a few more bags. He sprinted back to his car and tossed them in with the rest.  
  
"Well, you spent the last hiatus with Mia," Sebastian explained, "and we said next hiatus you and I were going to run away together and have our own two week fuck fest." Sebastian eyed the bags in Blaine's trunk, his enthusiasm dimming. "So, what's the plan?"  
  
"Sorry, Bas," Blaine said, though he didn't sound all that sorry. "I already made plans. I'm going on a sort of... staycation."  
  
Sebastian looked disgusted.  
  
"What - what the fuck's a staycation?"  
  
Blaine closed his trunk and felt in the pockets of his jeans for his credit cards and phone. "It's when you go on vacation close to home."  
  
Blaine took one last jog over to the house to lock the door and set the alarm, Sebastian watching him work with an annoyed expression.  
  
"So... where are you 'staycationing' exactly?"  
  
Blaine wasn't too eager to tell Sebastian, because he wasn't sure whether or not Sebastian would actually follow him. It's not like Sebastian truly cared about him. Blaine knew that. Blaine was sort of a prize to Sebastian, and Sebastian hated to lose.  
  
"San Diego." Blaine opened the driver side door and sat in the seat.  
  
"What's in fucking San Diego besides Shamu?" Sebastian said indignantly. Then the look in his eyes became dark, and Sebastian bent down to look into Blaine's face.  
  
"Is this...is this about that prostitute?" Sebastian grimaced. "The one from the autograph signing?"  
  
This time it was Blaine's turn to look dark and indignant.  
  
"Don't...call him that," Blaine said dangerously.  
  
"If I remember correctly, tiger," Sebastian smirked, "you're the one who called him that."  
  
Blaine's face clouded with shame, and Sebastian didn't miss the shift in his look. Blaine's eyes burned as they looked pointedly at Sebastian.  
  
"And I intend to make up for that every day for the next two weeks."  
  
Sebastian was shaking his head with dawning realization.  
  
"Wait a second." Sebastian wanted to laugh. It was just too ridiculous. "Did you? Did he? You let him..."  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes.  
  
"Dominate me? Yes," Blaine admitted. "And it was amazing..."  
  
"Mia and I wondered where you ran off to that night." This time Sebastian did laugh. "We looked every where. And to think, that whole time you were here getting your rocks off being spanked."  
  
Sebastian looked confused when Blaine met his gaze.  
  
"I didn't think I would like it..." Blaine sighed at the memory and smiled. "But it was sensual and exciting, and believe it or not relaxing. And Kurt, well Kurt is..."  
  
"Okay, I get it," Sebastian interrupted, his smile plastered in place and not reaching his eyes. "You want to get this kink out of your system. Go ahead and do it. That should take, what, three days, tops? Then I can drive down, we can blow that scene, and spend the rest of the time in Mexico...drinking mojitos, fucking on the beach... What do you say?"  
  
Blaine pulled the car door shut and started his car.  
  
"Bye," Blaine said, as he pulled away. He giggled a little in anticipation as he sent the text - _'On my way.'_  


* * *

  
  
"So, tell me how this contract works?" Dave watched Kurt picked out peaches. He eyed Kurt carefully as Kurt chose a peach, sniffed it, and then either put it in the basket, or back on the pile with a small shake of his head. It was almost a ritual.  
  
"Well," Kurt started, "Blaine said he's coming down to San Diego for vacation, and he wants to hire me...you know...in the evenings."  
  
"Is he paying you?" There was an almost imperceptible edge to Dave's voice, and Kurt felt a chill, a slight flashback to a distant time. Kurt shook it away, before smiling a too tight smile and turning to face his companion.  
  
"Of course, he's paying me," Kurt said. "This isn't a date or anything."  
  
"But, he's hiring you for overnights as well?" Dave lowered his voice. "Are...are you sleeping with him?"  
  
Kurt turned on Dave incredulously.  
  
"Or course not." Something in Kurt's chest tightened at his own defensive reaction. "You know I don't sleep with clients." Kurt led Dave over to the apples this time. "I think...well, I just think he might be a little...lonely..."  
  
Dave nodded, breathing a sigh of relief and taking a bag of large galas from Kurt's hands.

* * *

  
  
Blaine met Dave quite by accident.  
  
The drive to San Diego was a blur of memories and daydreams. He had become so turned on and lost in his fantasizing a one-point that he almost rear ended a mini van. Before he knew it, he was driving through the town where Kurt had mentioned he lived.  He stopped, wondering if he could figure out where Kurt lived, but decided that was a ridiculous notion. Needing a break from driving in his cramped car, he decided to stop at the supermarket to pick up a few items. He had rented a seaside bungalow in Carlsbad, and had little intention of leaving it while Kurt was with him.  
  
While wandering the aisles, he spotted them in the cereal aisle, arguing over brands. He hadn't pictured Dave as such a mammoth of a person. The guy could have been a football player. For a moment, Blaine was a little frightened for Kurt as they bickered, but then Blaine noticed it - the light in Dave's eyes as he looked at Kurt, the fond amusement that played at the corner of his mouth that struggled not to bloom into a smile. Eventually, Kurt won, but it didn't look like Dave had really put up much of a fight. In the end, the two of them looked at each other silently for a moment, and then broke into a fit of giggles.  
  
Dave and Kurt stood in close proximity, Dave always looking at Kurt's mouth when Kurt wasn't paying attention. They touched constantly; no huge PDA, just light brushings of fingertips on arms, or a hand on a shoulder shared between two people who were obviously used to being around one another. Blaine felt a knot forming in his chest. He could ask himself why, but he knew the answer. He was jealous.  
  
Kurt looked up suddenly and saw Blaine at the end of the aisle, standing awkwardly with his hand basket, staring at them. Blaine wanted to turn away, but the smile that immediately lit up Kurt's face shone like a beacon, and Blaine was powerless to do anything but walk toward it. Dave, on the other hand, did not seem too happy to see him.  
  
"Hey!" Kurt grabbed Blaine's elbow and pulled him into their circle. "Fancy seeing you here."  
  
"Just getting a few things," Blaine said a little uncomfortably. He turned to look at Dave, whose eyes looked every where but Blaine's. Blaine extended a hand in his direction. "I'm Blaine."  
  
Dave cleared his throat and took the offered hand in his.  
  
"I know who you are," Dave said, his voice low. "I'm Dave. Dave Karofsky."  
  
"It's good to meet you, Dave." Blaine pumped his hand firmly once and then pulled it away. Blaine had the strangest feeling this man wanted to hit him. And why not? Dave obviously loved Kurt. Kurt probably told Dave all about that night they met. Now here he was, taking Kurt away every night for the next two weeks. Blaine decided if he were Dave, he would want to hit himself, too.  
  
The silence that followed was strained, at best, and Kurt could feel the tension growing.  
  
"Well, we'd better finish up here." Kurt smiled. He put a hand on Blaine's arm and squeezed gently. "I'll see you tonight."  
  
Blaine nodded, offering a small wave to the two as they walked away. Kurt waved back, and then looped his arm through Dave's. Dave relaxed into the gesture as Kurt led him away to the checkout. Blaine's heart sank.  
  
What was he doing? Kurt obviously had a life, with this huge scary man who loved him, and four kids - four kids! Did Blaine think he was actually going to be able to steal this man - this beautiful angel - away from all of that?  
  
Would it be right of him to try?  
  
Blaine sighed. He couldn't back out now. If he was only allowed to have two weeks in heaven, he would do it, and deal with the consequences later.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter takes a little explaining. Here we find out the details of Kurt's relationship with Dave and how they get the kids. A few things. I wrote this story a long time ago, long before real life events happened. Because of this, certain characters were not included in the story corporally. They are simply mentioned. I have written and re-written this chapter in an effort to not make it too heartbreaking. Please remember that the heart of this story is the Klaine romance and the Kurtofsky relationship, so please stick with me. We have a full two weeks of Blaine romancing Kurt coming up. Thank you and don't hate me :)

Kurt couldn't sit still. He packed, unpacked, and repacked his bag about fifteen times. Then he dressed, and redressed. He had long since made dinner and packed it in the freezer. He told Dave four times that it needed to be reheated in the glass casserole dish at 350 degrees for thirty minutes so he needed to put it in right at six o'clock. He made the beds, folded the laundry, cleaned the toilets, vacuumed the rooms, and did anything he could manage to keep busy.  
  
Dave noticed it all. He watched Kurt start folding his third pile of laundry. Dave came up beside him, grabbed a towel, and started to help.  
  
"You know," Dave said, smiling bitterly, "you don't need to clean the whole house. You're going to his hotel room. He's not coming here."  
  
"I know," Kurt said off-handedly. "I just don't want to leave you in the lurch with a dirty house. You know things always run better with those four when you don't have to worry about the chores."  
  
"Kurt, you polished the doorknobs."  
  
"Not polished," Kurt corrected. "Sanitized. You know how Eva licks everything."  
  
Dave sighed as he picked up another towel.  
  
"You're nervous," Dave observed. "The Kurt I know doesn't get nervous...You like him." Kurt didn't acknowledge Dave's comment. They continued in silence. What was Kurt supposed to say? Yes, he liked Blaine, but it was more than that. Being with Blaine that amazing night at his house, he had felt a connection. It was stars, fireworks, electric shocks, everything he had ever dreamed.  
  
It's what he'd always wanted...but he knew he could never have it. It had taken a few weeks of crying himself to sleep, but when he started his life with Dave and the kids he knew in his heart that in order for this family to work he would have to live his life with Dave.  
  
Dave must have realized the same thing, because they never talked about it, never even entertained the possibility of them finding love somewhere else.  
  
This family was important to him. Another relationship outside of this family was in impossibility.  
  
Besides, Kurt didn't know how Blaine felt...not really. What if he was jumping the gun? After his two weeks was up, what would Blaine decide to do? How would super star Blaine Anderson fit into this dysfunctional group of misfits even if he did like Kurt that way? There were too many unanswered questions. They were just too different.  
  
Kurt looked over at Dave, putting his folded towel onto the pile and grabbing another, a pensive look on his face. Kurt knew Dave loved him. He knew that a relationship with Kurt was one of Dave's big dreams. Dave had been nothing if not loving and supportive, so why couldn't Dave have what he wanted...even if it meant sacrificing what Kurt wanted?  
  
What Kurt felt for Blaine was becoming so strong, he didn't have words for it yet. And it was all happening so fast. How was he going to admit that to Dave if he couldn't admit it to himself?  
  
Kurt's iPhone chirped, and he smiled. Dave watched as Kurt pulled it from his pocket and looked at the message on the screen.  
  
' _Are you ready, gorgeous?'_  
  
Kurt bit his lip and chuckled. Gorgeous?  
  
Kurt was in trouble. He was definitely going to fall in love with his man. This man who was paying him. This man he'd eventually have to let go.  
  
Dave leaned over and pecked Kurt on the cheek.  
  
"You should go, babe." Dave picked up another towel. "I'll finish here."  
  
"Now, you guys are going to be okay, right? I mean, I'll only be in Carlsbad if you need me...for anything...I have my phone..."  
  
"I know, Kurt," Dave said a bit too tensely, and Kurt took a step back. Dave looked down and blew out a frustrated breath. He counted to five in his head to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. Then he looked back at Kurt with a small smile. "Kurt, we'll be fine. You're going to be late."  
  
Kurt's smile returned slowly, cautiously.  
  
Dave melted. He wanted to see Kurt happy, but he had hoped it wouldn't hurt this much. Dave put down the towel he was folding, spun Kurt around, and patted him affectionately on the butt.  
  
"Go, Kurt. The faster you leave, the sooner you come home."  
  
Kurt grabbed his gear bag and his overnight bag and headed out.  


* * *

  
Kurt had no luck with finding hotels. Of course, when Blaine said he had rented a bungalow, Kurt never imagined it was actually a cozy two-room house right on the beach.  
  
"Oh my goodness," Kurt said, putting down his bag and looking around the living room. Kurt wondered for a moment if Blaine had chosen the house for this room alone. It was a living room, but also the bedroom, and the bed took up most of the space. A compact kitchenette with a refrigerator, oven and sink made up the left portion of the house, and big glass doors on the opposite side faced the beach.  "This place is amazing!" Blaine smiled as he watched Kurt go straight for the enclosed patio. "You rented a room with an ocean view? On a private beach?"  
  
"Yeah." Blaine put his hands in his pockets. He looked down, sheepishly, proud that Kurt was so happy with the room.  
  
"God, I envy you." Kurt breathed in the air. "I mean, I know Dave and I live out here, but I would love to wake up to the sound of the ocean outside my window." Kurt closed his eyes and inhaled again deeply, a look so serene on Kurt's face it almost stopped Blaine's heart.  
  
Blaine came up behind Kurt and put his arms around Kurt's waist. "I do have you for two weeks. I know I can't have you during the day, but that's still two weeks of waking up to this whenever you want."  
  
Kurt sighed. The sun hung low in the sky, preparing to set. The crashing of the waves filled the air with its ceaseless rhythm. A warm breeze of the water surrounded them. Blaine's strong arms wrapped around Kurt's waist.  
  
 _'This is perfect,'_ Kurt thought.  
  
Kurt didn't want to disturb the peace. He would have fought tooth and nail to stop time and stay just as they were, but there were so many unanswered questions, and if he was going to get his heartbroken, he might as well get it over with.  
  
"I need to know something."  
  
Kurt turned around in Blaine's arms.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Kurt looked into Blaine's honey colored eyes. "Why do you want to spend this time with me?"  
  
Blaine was taken back. He knew that Kurt would probably ask this question. He just didn't think he would ask it so soon.  
  
Kurt's eyes searched Blaine's face.  
  
"If you're becoming some kind of BDSM addict, then let me know," Kurt joked. "I know of a good support group you can go to."  
  
Blaine chuckled.  
  
"I have a confession to make." Blaine took Kurt's hand in his, running his fingers along Kurt's knuckles as he chose his words. "I didn't just come down here for a vacation...and I don't want you to think that I'm just here to be dominated." Blaine cleared his throat. He wanted to tell Kurt everything that was in his heart, all the things he had started to realize, but he was afraid of scaring Kurt off.  
  
He told Kurt as much of the truth as he could.  
  
"I want to get to know you. I want to spend time with you. Like I said before, you fascinate me."  
  
Both men were silent, standing in each other's arms, both wanting to move forward, neither knowing which way to go.  
  
"Well," Kurt stepped back from Blaine's embrace, "why don't we at least get the...uh...unpleasantries out of the way, and see where we go from there."  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt, confused, until realization dawned.  
  
"Oh, yes. Come on inside and we'll do that."  
  
Blaine walked over to his suitcase while Kurt closed the patio door.  
  
"I was going to give you cash like last time," Blaine said, trying to ease the tension with conversation, "but I didn't really want to carry so much, so is it okay if I write you a check?"  
  
"Sure." Kurt tried to sound professional but breezy at the same time, when in his head he was cursing life. "I'm sure you're good for it."  
  
'The man of my dreams is paying me to spend time with him. I am a prostitute.'  
  
Blaine finished signing his name and handed Kurt the check. It had a guitar and music notes on it. Then Kurt took a look at the amount.  
  
 _'Wow,'_ he thought, trying not to look too shocked. _'Is that really what fourteen days of my life is worth?'_  
  
"I hope you don't get insulted," Blaine said, "but I gave you a little extra, seeing as I am taking you away from your family. I don't like you being inconvenienced."  
  
"No." Kurt could barely form words. He had never seen a check this large with his name on it before.  
  
"Um, I have to admit, this is a little awkward." Kurt folded the check and put it in his pocket. "I've never been rented... for two weeks. In fact, I've never spent more than two hours with a client, and you have me for the whole evening. How do you...I mean...what do you..."  
  
Blaine thought that Kurt stumbling over his words was adorable.  
  
"I have an idea." Blaine went to the tiny refrigerator and grabbed out a bottle of red wine. He grabbed two glasses off the island. "Why don't we start with a walk down by the water?"  
  
Kurt sighed in relief and nodded. He followed Blaine out the door, grabbing a large throw off of the bed, and walked down the beach toward the water. Kurt took a glass from Blaine, and handed him an end of the blanket. They wrapped the blanket around themselves tight, snuggling close as they sat on the damp sand. Blaine shivered as he poured the wine, trying hard to hold tight to his blanket end and his glass, spilling some wine onto the sand.  
  
They giggled as they shivered in the cool ocean air, sitting impossibly close and looking out at the dark water churning in front of them. Blaine could barely believe it. Here he was with his angel, sitting under a blanket by the sea, drinking wine and simply existing. He could see himself doing this today...tomorrow...in fifty years.  
  
"Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know."  
  
Blaine blinked and turned to look at Kurt who kept his eyes trained on the water.  
  
"Ah, I get to go first this time." Blaine smirked. "Let's see."  
  
He didn't have to think. There was a truth on his tongue just itching to get out.  
  
"I don't like having my life planned out for me."  
  
Kurt turned to look at Blaine. That wasn't quite what he expected.  
  
"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.  
  
"It seems like I've been on _Sing_ forever." Blaine absently picked at a loose string in the fabric. "I mean, I was a junior in high school when I got the part."  
  
Kurt let out a bark of laughter.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing," Kurt smirked. "It's just...I was a sophomore. You're a year older than me."  
  
Blaine frowned.  
  
"Shut up!" he whined playfully.  
  
"No, no. I'm sorry." Kurt stifled another laugh. "Please, continue."  
  
"Okay," Blaine pouted, and Kurt grinned. "Well, we were only supposed to be on the show till our characters graduated high school. And then they went to college. I was completely prepared to call it quits after my character asked his boyfriend to marry him..."  
  
"Loved that, by the way."  
  
"Yes, yes," Blaine said. "Everyone did. But now..."  
  
"I know," Kurt agreed. "You guys are going to turn into Friends."  
  
"I know, right?" Blaine looked disgusted. "I'm 25 years old. I want to do something else with my life now. But..."  
  
"But..." Kurt finished his glass of wine. He put it down carefully in the sand. He wrapped his free arm around Blaine's waist and leaned in. Blaine sighed at Kurt's touch, firm but gentle against his side, fingers absentmindedly dancing beneath the fabric of Blaine's sweater, teasing his skin.  
  
"I don't know what to do." Blaine tilted his head to rub his cheek against Kurt's soft hair, blown a little wild by the ocean breeze. "I mean, what am I without the show? If I leave, will people forget about me? Will I be just another aging one hit wonder who turns into a wannabe?"  
  
Blaine finished his wine in one gulp, lay his glass in the sand, and wrapped an arm around Kurt, tilting his body slightly so that he could see his beautiful lithe form huddled beneath the blanket.  
  
"I'm afraid there's nothing much to me more than this."  
  
Kurt looked up at him, his nose and cheeks red from the cool night air, his eyes shining.  
  
"You know that's not true, right?" Kurt climbed over Blaine's legs and knelt between them. Blaine took both ends of the blanket and wrapped it around them.  
  
"Blaine." Kurt settled his hands on Blaine's knees, and for a moment, Blaine took in the image of Kurt, kneeling between his legs, wrapped up in Blaine's arms, lips within kissing distance.  
  
Blaine salivated, thinking of kissing those perfect lips, thinking of slipping his tongue into that pretty little mouth. He almost didn't register the sound of Kurt talking.  
  
"You are a true talent," Kurt continued. "You're a brilliant musician. You didn't need that show. The show needed you."  
  
"Thank you." Blaine ducked his head and blushed. "I hope you're right."  
  
"And I am."  
  
Blaine preened silently in the glow of Kurt's unexpected praise, resting his head against Kurt's chest and listening to his heart beat. He quietly breathed in the scent of Kurt's shirt and imagined all the things that went along with the various different subtle odors. There was jasmine, from Kurt's shampoo, of course. And vanilla, which Blaine surmised was his body lotion. There was something else sweet, and Blaine wondered if he had made cookies for the kids before he left. Why did Kurt having a domestic side have such a deep effect on Blaine? The idea of Kurt raising kids didn't frighten Blaine off, even though it should have. It should be intimidating as hell. But it partially made Blaine want to know Kurt more.  
  
"Okay," Blaine said into the silence. "Your turn."  
  
Kurt scoffed.  
  
"What do you mean, my turn?"  
  
"Tit for tat, Hummel." Blaine looked up into Kurt's smiling face. "Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know."  
  
Blaine rubbed a hand down Kurt's arm. Kurt looked up into the sky, trying to think of something to say.  
  
Kurt decided to answer the question Blaine had yet to ask.  
  
"Dave's not my partner," Kurt said, "not the way you think he is. We have kind of an...unusual arrangement. We're living together, raising our best friends' kids."  
  
Kurt sat back on the sand, hooking his legs beneath Blaine's and looking him the eyes...eyes wide with a strange expression. Shock? Relief? Kurt wanted to ask, but didn't.  
  
"Dave and I knew each other in high school," Kurt started, relieved to tell Blaine the details of his life. "Our relationship was...complicated..." Kurt waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway...my best friend Rachel married my stepbrother Finn, and they had their first baby about nine months later. Then they couldn't seem to stop having kids." Kurt laughed. Blaine looked into Kurt's face. Kurt was looking at some point in the distance, an amused smile on his face. "Dave was Finn's best friend, so when they finally got around to making out their wills, they asked us to be guardians, and we both said yes."  
  
Kurt's voice started to waver. Blaine tightened his grip around Kurt's shoulders, and saw a tear slip down his cheek. Kurt blinked away a second tear.  
  
"We both agreed because, well, you never expect both your best friends to die, do you?"  
  
Blaine didn't know what to say. He still had a million questions, but he waited to see what else Kurt might be willing to say.  
  
"After the funeral, we sat up all night and talked. Dave was in L.A., going to school to become a sports agent. I lived with Finn and Rachel and the kids in an apartment in New York. The kids already knew me. They were comfortable with me. And Dave used to visit a lot, take Junior to games with Finn, that sort of thing."  
  
Blaine held his breath, listening to Kurt's story. He had never imagined Kurt's life being anything like this. He couldn't think of anything to say. No words of comfort seemed appropriate. The silence stretched on and Blaine had to say something.  
  
"Do you have any pictures?"  
  
Kurt looked surprised, but fished out his phone. He swiped through a few photos before turning the phone towards Blaine.  
  
"You can keep looking from there," Kurt said, making a swiping motion through the air with his finger.  
  
Blaine looked down at the brightly lit screen. The first picture was a wedding picture. He saw a tall, handsome man with a kind, honest face standing beside a petite, brunette dressed in a white gown, decorated with elaborate beadwork and all sorts of exquisite lace. Beside her stood Kurt, debonair in an expertly tailored suit. The groom wore a matching suit, as did Dave, the best man, standing beside the groom. They were all smiling at the camera, eyes glowing, huddled together so they would fit in the camera frame.  
  
"That dress is almost as beautiful as the bride," Blaine remarked with awe. "Where on earth did she find it?"  
  
"I made it," Kurt sniffed. "The suits, too." Kurt stated it so matter of factly, Blaine wasn't sure he had heard him correctly.  
  
"You made them?"  
  
"Yup. Designed them and made them. It was my wedding present to her."  
  
Blaine whistled appreciatively.  
  
"You are an exceptional man, Kurt Hummel," Blaine whispered. Kurt smiled through his tears. Blaine flipped through a few more pictures. There was one of Kurt, Finn, and Rachel in a hospital room, Rachel holding a tiny red baby. Another flip, and Finn and Dave were chasing a little boy and a little girl through the park. Blaine flipped again and laughed at a picture of Kurt, Rachel, a little boy and two little girls dressed as characters from Alice in Wonderland. Flip after flip showed a happy family, young, joyful, with a bright future. The last picture he saw was of Kurt and Dave, arms linked together. A young boy and two young girls stood between them. Dave wore a baby carrier with an infant in it.  
  
"How old are they now?" Blaine asked, staring into picture Kurt's smiling but sad face.  
  
"Uh, Junior's about to turn seven. Barbra's six. Eva's five, and Ephelba just turned two. We've had them for two years."  
  
Blaine couldn't stop looking at Kurt's face in the picture. To anyone else, they could just be a normal family - two husbands in love, blessed with four beautiful children. But it wasn't that way. Not that way at all. Behind Kurt's expressive eyes Blaine could see all of the pain...all of the heartbreak. He was sure that what Kurt just told him had barely scratched the surface.  
  
Blaine looked at picture Kurt, and swore silently that he would do anything to make him happy. He just had to figure out what that thing was. He had time to figure it out. He had Kurt for fourteen days. He'd find a way.  
  
"You know what," Kurt said, looking at Blaine, his eyes still clouded by bitter memories, his cheeks flushed from the ocean air, and a wicked smile on his face. "If you don't mind, I think I need to blow of some steam."  
  
Blaine's heart switched tracks and began to beat like a drum in his chest at the glint in Kurt's eyes. Kurt snatched his phone out of Blaine's hand and shoved it into his pocket. He picked up his glass, took Blaine's hand, and pulled him back up the beach.  
  
"No more with the sad for now," Kurt called over his shoulder with a sly wink to an awe struck Blaine. "This is going to be fun."  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for D/S situations, whipping, toys, and a brief mention of dead puppies (nothing sexual there, I swear!). Oh, and Kurt finally breaks...

Kurt practically pulled Blaine the whole way up the beach. As they walked, feet digging into the sand, Kurt's mind switched into overdrive. He usually gave himself time to prepare before he met with a client. He'd meditate, clear his mind, settle him emotions. He didn't bring his emotional baggage to work. Once he slipped on his armor, he was cold as ice.  
  
He used the control to maintain. Never to overcome.  
  
Kurt didn't know what he was about to do. He was one gigantic raw nerve, and he needed - needed touch, needed reassurance, needed stability.  
  
Needed Blaine...Blaine the sub.  
  
Kurt needed Blaine, and he was on fire.  
  
Once they walked through the glass doors, Kurt's whole demeanor changed.  
  
"You know how I want you," Kurt said in a clipped tone as he grabbed his gear bag and marched straight to the bathroom. Blaine stood, staring after him, astonished by the change, when he realized he had better start getting undressed. He quickly stripped off his clothes and folded them neatly onto a chair. Completely naked, he dropped to his knees on the floor at the end of the bed. He bowed his head obediently, going through his mental check list to see if he had remembered everything. He quickly positioned his hands on his knees when he head the bathroom door unlock, accompanied by the muffled sound of Kurt's boots walking on the hard wood floor; the click, click, click upping his heart rate as each step came closer.  
  
Kurt rounded the end of the bed, but all Blaine could see were Kurt's black stiletto boots, this particular pair polished to a shine so that Blaine could almost make out the reflection of Kurt's face as the dominatrix looked down at his sub. Kurt smirked.  
  
"Very good, sweetheart," Kurt said, his voice soft and smooth, falling over Blaine's naked form like a blanket. "You've remembered everything, and done very well."  
  
Blaine shivered at the praise. He loved his angel, but somewhere deep inside he longed for his no-nonsense black swan.  
  
"Now, we talked a bit about expanding your boundaries, haven't we sweetheart?"  
  
Kurt let his words hang in the silence; his question yet to be answered. Kurt smiled. Obedience. Kurt loved obedience.  
  
Obedient Blaine was super hot.  
  
"You may respond, sweetheart."  
  
"Yes," Blaine said, deciding simple one word answers would be best.  
  
"And you trust me to take care of you and keep you safe? To not put your health in danger? You may respond."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Somewhere inside his head, a tiny little Kurt was fist pumping the air.  
  
Kurt crouched down low, and Blaine could see Kurt's black vinyl pants, as shiny as his boots; and a small expanse of Kurt's pale, procelain torso. The remainder of his chest was covered by a black vinyl tank top that ended in choker around Kurt's neck. This time Blaine could see Kurt's muscular upper arms on display, and they were a sight to behold. Shadows from the lights outside fell across Kurt's skin, the well defined lines, emphasizing what must be a tremendous amount of physical strength. Blaine briefly remembered their last session together, how he had cum so hard he nearly lost consciousness, and Kurt had lifted him, held him almost as if he weighed nothing.  
  
Those strong arms...the potential for those strong arms around him, holding him again...  
  
Blaine's mind was in a panic, willing away his oncoming erection. Not because he was afraid of punishment. Blaine was actually a little embarrassed to admit he was welcoming the potential pain.  
  
He was afraid of cumming way too quickly. He needed this time with his black swan to last.  
  
"You look stunning like this," Kurt hummed, hooking a satin gloved finger beneath Blaine's chin, lifting Blaine's eyes to meet his. "Look at those gorgeous eyes," Kurt whispered, and Blaine felt his heart swell. The longer Kurt held his gaze, the more Blaine felt like he was falling, drowning in the depths of those stormy, tumultuous blue eyes. Blaine didn't realize that hw was moving forward, searching out Kurt's lips, until Kurt grabbed a handful of Blaine's curls and tugged back sharply.  
  
"Up we go," Kurt said in a sing-song voice as he started to pull Blaine to a standing position by his hair. Half way up, Kurt stopped him.  
  
"Actually..." Kurt's smile turned truly diabolical. "This happens to be a brand new suit...so why don't you polish it for me." Kurt pushed Blaine back to the floor. Keeping Blaine's curls secured in his fist, Kurt commanded his sub.  
  
"Lick your way up."  
  
Blaine could have exploded. He looked at Kurt's firm, muscular leg clad in the tightest pants Blaine had ever seen. It clung to Kurt's leg shamelessly. Blaine wanted his mouth on Kurt - any way...any how.  
  
Blaine bent low, all the way to the toe of Kurt's boot. He closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, surrendering to the sensation of Kurt's fingers twined in his hair, the smooth vinyl beneath his tongue. He licked along the top of Kurt's boot, and swore he heard Kurt bite back a moan.  
  
"There we go, sweetheart," Kurt purred. The further up Blaine traveled, the more he realized that barely anything separated his tongue from Kurt's body. As he traced along the seam of the vinyl pants, he could feel the tight muscles of Kurt's legs shift at his touch. When he lingered too long in one area, Kurt would encourage him along with a sharp tug, but twice, Blaine noted, Kurt almost forgot. Kurt held Blaine's eyes, not betraying any look other than smug control on his face...but Blaine knew he had felt Kurt tremble beneath his touch.  
  
Blaine slowed his ascent purposefully, crossing over the front of Kurt's knee, riding along the seam up Kurt's inner thigh until he was mere inches away from Kurt's cock. Kurt's eyes started to widen, glued to Blaine's tongue as it came closer.  
  
Kurt wanted it. Wanted that tongue on him, even if just over these vinyl pants. He wanted to surrender to it. Wanted Blaine to take control.  
  
That was the thought that snapped Kurt out of the trance of Blaine's wide bedroom eyes and his sinful tongue.  
  
"That's enough, princess." Kurt pulled Blaine to his feet.  
  
 _'Princess,'_ Blaine thought. _'Fuck!'_  
  
"You're a naughty boy, Blaine Anderson," Kurt teased. "You enjoyed that, didn't you? You enjoyed using your tongue to polish my suit?"  
  
Kurt moved behind him, pushing Blaine's shoulders toward the bed. Blaine caught himself by his hands before his face hit the comforter. With a tsk-tsk, Kurt pushed on Blaine's shoulders harder until Blaine's elbows gave out, and his cheek was resting against the bedspread. Kurt nudged one of Blaine's ankles roughly until he was standing spread eagle. Then Kurt pushed Blaine's shoulders further until Blaine had to balance on his tiptoes. Blaine could feel his legs tremble slightly at the strain.  
  
Kurt admired the view. Blaine in this position was a sight to behold. His legs were muscular, and bending over the bed just emphasized the cut of his thighs and his calves. And his ass...Kurt had a million and one dirty thoughts just pondering the curves of Blaine's taut ass.  
  
"Dear God, princess," Kurt crooned. "You truly have the sweetest ass, do you know that?"  
  
Blaine wanted to whimper.  
  
Kurt could feel himself sweat. He decided to take a moment to indulge. He ran his gloved hand up the inside of Blaine's legs, from his right knee up to his right thigh, feeling Blaine tremble as he fought to keep still. Kurt slapped his ass hard.  
  
Fuck, but Kurt was beginning to love his job.  
  
"Stay still for me, princess" Kurt commanded, purposefully avoiding Blaine's balls as he traced down the muscles of his left leg, and then started the trip back up again. "I may just choose to do this all night...and you'd let me, wouldn't you. Because when you want to you can be such a good boy."  
  
 _'That's it, Blaine. You can take it. You're such a good boy...'_  
  
In Kurt's momentary daydream, Blaine moaned beneath him, moaned at the feeling of Kurt taking him, bending him over the bed and driving into him mercilessly.  
  
But it wasn't dream Blaine, it was really Blaine.  
  
Kurt's hand immediately stilled.  
  
"Oh, Blaine." Kurt tutted. "And you started out so well." Kurt pulled away and crossed the room to his bag. Blaine wanted to chase the heat of Kurt's gloved hand, wanted to beg Kurt to put that hand on his cock and make him cum, but he didn't. Instead, he tried to still his trembling legs, and waited patiently for Kurt to return.  
  
Blaine could do it. He could be obedient. He had broken for Kurt once. He could do it again.  
  
He wanted to do it again.  
  
"Now," Kurt said, as he rummaged through his bag, "when you mentioned wanting to try something more adventurous, I went shopping..."  
  
Kurt laid a few things out at the end of the bed. In Kurt's shadow, Blaine couldn't make any of them out. Kurt picked up the first item and stood back behind Blaine.  
  
"This," Kurt said, bringing the long, thick item up to Blaine's face, "I bought because you deserve your own, and this one made me think of you."  
  
Blaine could smell leather, and felt something rough, but also smooth rub against his cheek.  
  
Blaine shivered as he realized what Kurt was holding. It was a leather riding crop - a new leather riding crop...all his own.  
  
"It's thick," Kurt explained softly into Blaine's ear, "...it's stiff...it's long...and it smells incredible."  
  
Blaine's eyes fluttered closed as he felt the leather drag across his cheeks and press against his lips.  
  
"Now suck."  
  
Blaine opened his mouth slowly as Kurt pushed the end of it into his mouth. Blaine could feel himself get impossibly hard as he swirled his tongue around the end, feeling it fill his mouth as Kurt pushed farther. Blaine had yet, in all of his experimenting with Sebastian, given another man a blowjob. It had never appealed to him, and Sebastian was more than happy to devour Blaine's length whole whenever he was given the opportunity. But this, with the smell of Kurt filling Blaine's senses, having felt Kurt tremble beneath his tongue, was beyond erotic. As he sucked harder, he could imagine that this was Kurt's cock filling his mouth. 'But no,' Blaine thought. Kurt would have to be thicker than this. Blaine was sure of it. At the thought, Blaine moaned around the leather implement, and moved further down until he could feel it hit the back of his throat.  
  
Somewhere in the quiet that was broken only by his own lips sucking on the leather, Blaine thought he heard a gasp.  
  
Kurt had never been so aroused by an image before in his entire life, as the one before him of Blaine's beautiful mouth taking in the length of this riding crop. And it appeared that this already ideal man had no gag reflex.  
  
 _'Oh, God.'_  
   
Kurt stilled his urges, but Blaine was making his job very difficult.  
  
"Steady there, sweetheart." Kurt pulled the leather from Blaine's mouth slowly, enjoying the look of Blaine's lips sliding over it. Kurt dragged it back across Blaine's cheek, over Blaine's shoulder, and down Blaine's back. He dragged it slowly over Blaine's spine, carefully pulling it between Blaine's quivering cheeks, stopping to massage Blaine's entrance.  
  
Blaine couldn't stifle his moaning now. He tried. He would have bitten off his own tongue to silence that noise. He knew that Kurt would probably spank him with that riding crop, and as Kurt continued the trip down between his legs, Blaine tensed, anticipating where that first strike might land. Kurt trailed it between Blaine's thighs, stroking gently over his balls in small circles. Blaine wanted to toss his head back, moan out Kurt's name, but he bit his lip, his muscles screaming as he fought to stay still, but his legs continued to betray him, and trembled even more violently now.  
  
"Poor baby," Kurt almost sang, "you look tired. Are you worn out already?"  
  
Kurt's assault with the riding crop was merciless, especially when it traveled even further to stroke up and down his hard cock.  
  
Kurt chuckled darkly.  
  
"Well, well," Kurt said, trying hard not to do anything that would hint to his own arousal, "it looks like I have someone's attention."  
  
Blaine didn't think he would last much longer as Kurt continued to stroke from the base of Blaine's cock to the head, over the top and then back down to the base.  
  
 _'Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,'_ Blaine chanted in his head.  
  
"You definitely don't look like you're going to last much longer this way," Kurt said, "and we haven't even tried out the rest of your toys."  
  
Kurt put the riding crop down in front of Blaine's face. He pushed down on Blaine's hips so that his feet stood flat on the floor, and Blaine's whole body relaxed.  
  
"Don't get too comfortable, princess," Kurt giggled. Kurt climbed up onto the bed. Blaine opened his eyes to watch Kurt as he practically slithered. Kurt sat with his legs spread in front of Blaine, scooting forward until Blaine's head rested in Kurt's lap. Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's curls.  
  
"Are you getting tired, Blainey?" Kurt carded his gloved hand through Blaine's hair, slightly damp with sweat. Kurt toook off one glove and ran his nails lightly over Blaine's scalp. Blaine hummed, content to keep his head in Kurt's lap, while Kurt continued to pull Blaine's curls lightly.  
  
"I need to show you the rest," Kurt said sweetly. He removed his hand from Blaine's hair. Blaine whimpered softly at the loss of Kurt's touch. Kurt reached behind him and grabbed a long, narrow box and held it in front of Blaine's face.  
  
"Do you know what this is, baby?" Kurt asked, letting Blaine examine the box in the dim light. "You can respond."  
  
"No," Blaine said.  
  
"Well," Kurt said cheerfully, "it's kind of a vibrator..."  
  
The word vibrator made Blaine stiffen a little. Kurt removed the toy from its box.  
  
"You see, I stick this into that gorgeous ass of yours, I roll it around a bit, I put it next to your prostate, and then I..." Kurt didn't finish. Instead he switched it on for effect. It buzzed into the darkness, and Blaine swallowed hard, filled with a mixture of excitement and dread.  
  
Kurt leaned close to Blaine's face. Sweat was dripping from Blaine's brow.  
  
"Have you ever had anything besides those beads shoved up that gorgeous ass?" Kurt whispered. "You may respond."  
  
"N...no," Blaine sputtered. "No."  
  
"Oh, you're a top, huh?" Kurt smiled.  
  
"Yes," Blaine whispered.  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine carefully, noticing the twitch in his facial muscles, the sweat dripping down his face. Kurt rested his forehead against Blaine's. He ran a finger down Blaine's cheek, watching him flinch slightly, and Kurt felt a strange pull on his heart.  
  
"This could get pretty intense," Kurt whispered, soothingly. "You don't have to do it. You can use the safe word. You can respond."  
  
Blaine nodded.  
  
"I know," he said with a shudder. "I want to." Blaine heard the sound of worry in Kurt's voice and wondered at the temporary change. He didn't want Kurt to think he was just doing this to please him, even though that is the nature of a sub. "God, do I want to," he begged emphatically.  
  
Kurt breathed in quickly, the urge to kiss this man so overwhelming, he almost did...almost broke his own cardinal rule to place a small kiss on Blaine's sweaty brow. His lips were right next to Blaine's skin. He was so close.  
  
Kurt sat up suddenly.  
  
"Want to what, Blaine? Tell me. You can respond."  
  
"I..." Blaine fought against himself to ask for Kurt to do this. Every rational part of his brain resisted the idea of Kurt shoving that vibrator, which looked to be about five inches long and almost as thick as three fingers, into his virgin ass.  
  
But he wasn't thinking with his rational brain, and the part he was thinking with screamed a healthy, 'Hell yeah!'  
  
"I want you to fuck me...fuck my ass with that vibrator...please..."  
  
His voice was calm, more confident than he felt, a plea with subtle hints of his overwhelming desire to be owned by only one man.  
  
That voice went straight to Kurt's cock, because all Kurt heard was, "I want you to fuck me."  
  
Kurt slid back off the bed and back around behind Blaine, and stood, silently, watching for a moment, allowing the anticipation to seep in.  
  
In Blaine's head, he tried to find that place, the one Kurt helped him find before, where the silence and the dark and the feeling alone didn't bother him because he knew Kurt wouldn't leave him.  
  
Without warning, Blaine felt Kurt's hands kneading his ass, hard, aggressive squeezing from his talented fingers. He felt a single finger press against his entrance, gently rubbing in teasing circles while the other hand gripped with force at his right buttock.  
  
 _Silence. Discipline. Obedience. Silence. Discipline. Obedience._  
  
It was rough. It was sometimes painful. But there was no reason to object. Bent over this bed, his body didn't belong to him. It belonged to Kurt.  
  
"Still a little tense, sweetheart," Kurt remarked. "We need to warm you up."  
  
That's when the hit came...hard and sharp from the riding crop...across his ass, barely missing his balls.  
  
Blaine just about came.  
  
Blaine's mouth tried to work around a word that he was dying to say. Kurt noticed the twitching of Blaine's lips, sure that he had gone too far too soon.  
  
"Is there something you would like to say, sweetheart?" Kurt's voice was still calm, but this time clouded by a touch of worry.  
  
Blaine swallowed.  
  
"More," he said weakly.  
  
Astonished, Kurt moved around where he could see Blaine's face more clearly.  
  
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, what was that?"  
  
"More," Blaine growled.  
  
Kurt brought the riding crop down again on the swell of Blaine's ass, further up from the original mark.  
  
Blaine didn't flinch. Didn't squeeze his eyes shut. Didn't wait for permission to speak.  
  
"More."  
  
Kurt should have stopped. Should have ceased doing what his sub wanted, since he had been disobedient, but Kurt was fascinated by the sound of want in Blaine's voice.  
  
He whipped Blaine again, on the opposite cheek this time, a bit harder than the first two.  
  
Blaine's expression had changed Kurt noted. The blank mask he tried to wear to hide the look of his anxiety had melted, and bliss had taken its place.  
  
This wasn't fair. Straining against the confines of vinyl, soaked in sweat, Kurt was going to be done before they had even started. Kurt had been biding his time, hoping to make Blaine suffer before introducing him to what Kurt had hoped would be their new best friend. The vibrator still sat untouched on the bed, unjustly neglected, and more than anything Kurt wanted to see Blaine's virgin hole stretched around it, wanted to hear the small moans and gasps that nothing would be able to silence...and then punish him for it.  
  
"Now, now, no more of that." Kurt winced at the sound of his own voice.  
  
 _'Fuckfuckfuck!'_  
  
Kurt tried to think of anything to get him back on track. Puppies. No, fuck, with Blaine's beautiful, wide, whiskey-colored eyes, puppies just made everything worse. Dead puppies. Shit, no. That's just sad, and frighteningly enough _not_ a cockblock.  
  
Kurt's hands shook as he took off his gloves, picked up the vibrator and coated it in lube. The sound of the lube squishing through his fingers as he worked it over the toy was pornographic. Kurt was becoming desperate.  
  
"Relax for me, sweetheart," Kurt said, and his voice was soft and soothing instead of harsh and commanding like he had intended. Kurt didn't care. He was cracking, he knew it. He was afraid he was going to cross a line. He didn't know how to regain his composure.  
  
He wouldn't go back on his word. No matter what, he was there to take care of Blaine, even if his body, his life, everything he knew up to this point was shattering.  
  


* * *

  
Blaine felt the blunt end of the vibrator push up against him. He wanted to be still. He wanted to be good.  
  
 _Silence. Discipline. Obedience._  
  
Keeping his body still meant his mind was free to wander, and it did. It wandered to the man in vinyl behind him. It made him fantasize that Kurt's muscular body was pressed up behind him, slowly entering him, stretching him, filling him. He could almost feel Kurt kissing down his back, mumuring incoherent words of love and affection.  
  
Kurt eased the vibrator in slowly, almost painfully slow, watching with awe as Blaine's tight hole accommodated the large toy, adjusted to the stretch. Kurt longed to lick around the entrance, soothe the burn with his tongue, feel Blaine shiver.  
  
 _Dead puppies, dead puppies, multitudes of dead dead puppies!_  
  
What made it worse, what made it nearly unbearable was that Blaine wasn't moving, wasn't trembling, wasn't pawing at the bed, wasn't resisting.  
  
He had broken again - gone to that place where nothing existed but him and Kurt and trust.  
  
Before Kurt even knew it, the vibrator was in, Blaine was filled, and the room was quiet.  
  
He needed Blaine. He needed to hear Blaine.  
  
He needed to hear Blaine beg.  
  
Kurt's hand rested at the base of the vibrator. Originally he was going to fuck Blaine with it, but a thought hit Kurt...a greedy, selfish thought. This was the first time Blaine had anything even resembling a cock up his ass. He couldn't fuck him like this. He wanted to be the one to do it, to pound into him, to make him cum with Kurt's name on his lips...begging...  
  
Kurt didn't even know whether or not it would get to that point. Didn't he tell Dave he wasn't going to have sex with Blaine?  
  
Kurt hated being conflicted like this, not being able to focus on the task at hand.  
  
Kurt flicked the vibrator on...and switched it to high.  
  
That did it. The scream that tore from Blaine's mouth was exquisite. His body jolted, like it was hit by a thousand volts of of electricity.  
  
Kurt was lost. He couldn't even think of anything to say. But he knew what Blaine wanted.  
  
He picked up the riding crop and brought it down on Blaine's ass, which he knew would squeeze around the vibrator.  
  
This new scream was even better. It was almost inhuman.  
  
He whipped Blaine repeatedly, never in the same spot, watching Blaine's muscles contract, watching Blaine's mouth, his beautiful mouth work around a string of nonsense he had yet to voice.  
  
"What is it, sweetheart?" Kurt taunted, watching as marks formed all over Blaine's ass, and down his thighs. "What is it you want to say so badly."  
  
Blaine took a deep breath, and let it out in a single shudder.  
  
"Wh-what the fuck," Blaine started, his voice thick and shaking, "do I have to do...to get you to hit me HARDER!?" The last word was a scream through gritted teeth.  
  
His muscles twitched, shifted beneath his sweating skin. As Blaine's body convulsed slightly, involuntarily from the vibrations of the toy inside him, Kurt's control slipped. He should have stopped, denied him his orgasm. Turned everything off, and left the room, left Blaine alone to cool down. But Kurt wanted this. He needed to see Blaine fall apart. He couldn't prolong it any longer.  
  
"You just have to ask, sweetheart."  
  
Kurt's voice changed. Blaine heard it for sure this time. He knew. He'd keep it a secret. He respected his dom, but he knew. Kurt was losing control.  
  
 _'Oh my God!'_ Blaine realized. _'Kurt is going to cum!'_  
  
"Please, Kurt!" Blaine begged. Kurt loved the sound of Blaine's voice when he begged. The breathy half moan, the high pitched whine, the gravelly tone. Kurt felt his own legs shaking, pulled his own hair with the hand gripping the riding crop while he held the vibrator in place with the other. "Please punish me."  
  
Not spank me. Not whip me. Punish me.  
  
Kurt couldn't hold back. He was whipping Blaine, flailing him mercilessly, everywhere he could hit. The crop bit across Blaine's back, making him arch. Kurt let him scream, let him buck because there was no control left in him.  
  
The skin on Blaine's back swelled; welts formed all over. Kurt's vision went red with pure lust over this man. Lines blurred every where. He saw Blaine's cock straining for release, and Kurt felt too far away from it. He wanted to believe so badly that this man wanted him, that before he knew it the crop was gone. Kurt was shuddering as he came. He bent himself over Blaine, his chest flush against Blaine's back. Blaine hissed from the sensation. The pressure from Kurt's thigh pushed the vibrator further in. Kurt grabbed for Blaine's erection and stroked him, fast and furious.  
  
Blaine was in heaven. Every sensation bombarded him at once. His back screamed out in agony when Kurt launched himself on him, but it came at the price of his black swan pressing his body against him. He would have taken a hundred more lashes for just a moment of that particular pleasure. With the vibrator shoved in against him, Blaine knew he was going to lose it. He was familiar now with the feeling of Kurt's hand on his cock, but not like this. Then there was the voice, the grunting and straining and groaning of Kurt's voice in his ear chanting something he was sure Kurt didn't realize he was even saying.  
  
"Cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking cum for me."  
  
  
That did it. That didn't just tip him over the edge, it shoved him full force; ran over him like a steam roller, and he felt flattened. He felt himself spilling over Kurt's hand, over the bed, onto the floor, and just like before, it just wouldn't stop. He felt like things were moving backward. The pressure on his back was gone. The vibrator disappeared. His muscles were relaxed. Each sense began to disappear one at a time until only feeling remained. Even that was quickly dissolving.  
  
This time Blaine did black out. He knew it was happening. He saw the bright lights in front of his eyes, swirling like a tornado behind his eyelids; felt his consciousness slipping into that sweet dizziness that comes with a combination of lack of oxygen and overwhelming pleasure.  
  
When he came to, there were those arms again, holding him, taking care of him, lying him out on the bed, and he felt like he was floating.  
  
It was the voice that snapped him back to reality, the voice of his angel that sounded frantic...and ashamed.  
  
"I'm sorry, Blaine," the angel said. "I am so so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Blaine?"  
  
The first few times, he didn't get it. Didn't understand why the angel would be sorry. But then he knew. The cracks in his armor. Kurt had broken down completely.  
  
He took a good look at Kurt, hair mussed, face shimmering with sweat, lips swollen where he must have bitten them a few dozen times.  
  
Blaine smiled that goofy sated smile.  
  
"Don't be," he said with a slight shake of his head, noticing that his head was cradled in Kurt's lap. "That was fantastic!"  
  



	12. Chapter 12

Kurt straddled Blaine's hips carefully, admiring the marks up and down his back.  
  
"How does it look?"  
  
With a pleased smirk, Kurt's gaze drifted over to Blaine's eyes, a content smile curling up the ends of his lips.  
  
"It looks beautiful."  
  
Kurt looked back at the marks and got an idea.  
  
"Blaine?" Kurt climbed off the bed carefully. "Do you think you can stay like this for me?"  
  
Blaine chuckled.  
  
"Kurt, I will do anything you tell me to."  
  
Kurt blushed as he ran and grabbed his phone off the kitchen island. He held it in front of Blaine's face, shaking it side to side playfully.  
  
"Can I?" Kurt asked innocently. "For my personal album. It won't end up on the internet or anything. I promise."  
  
"Do it."  
  
Kurt positioned his cell phone camera carefully to just get Blaine's back in the frame.  
  
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Kurt said, tongue firmly clasped between his teeth while he tried to get the best angle. "I won't get your ass in the picture."  
  
"Why not?" Blaine sounded offended. "I happen to think my ass is my best feature."  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Do it," Blaine repeated, his whiskey colored eyes shining. "Photograph everything."  
  
"Okay." Kurt giggled.  
  
Blaine could feel Kurt move around the bed, careful not to jar Blaine too much. Being on the bed, naked, while Kurt climbed carefully over him, still dressed in that lucious vinyl outfit was a new level of erotic. Blaine listened to the click of the camera as his beautiful angel photographed Blaine's naked and marked body. It turned out to be an incredible turn on.  
  
"You'd better forward me those." Blaine smirked. Kurt kneeled off the end of the bed and looked into Blaine's grinning face, his eyes closed. Kurt quickly snapped a picture.  
  
"That one, too," Blaine said, and Kurt laughed.  
  
"Now you lay here for a moment," Kurt said, rubbing a hand lightly over Blaine's shoulders. "I'm going to change and be right back to take care of those."  
  
Kurt grabbed his overnight bag and hopped into the bathroom. Kurt unzipped his boots and pulled them off one at a time. He loved these boots, loved the way they hugged his skin. He closed his eyes as he pulled them off, imagined Blaine's beautiful bedroom eyes looking up at Kurt as he licked up the side...imagined taking them off in front of Blaine. Blaine, in a fitted tailored suit, stting at the end of that massive bed of his...Kurt slowly undressing.  
  
Could Kurt do it? Could Kurt be vulnerable in front of Blaine?  
  
Kurt peeled off his pants with a wince, grabbed a towel and wiped up his cum. This was becoming a thing now, Kurt realized. He looked at the riding crop in his hands.  
  
It had been a long time since he had even thought of doing something like this, but all of those marks on Blaine's back...his constant begging for more and harder, had Kurt wondering. He rolled up a wash cloth and put it in his mouth, biting down. Then he took the crop firmly in his slightly shaking hand and brought it down on his own skin, hard.  
  
The whimper that managed to escape past the gag in his mouth was louder than he expected, and he was sure that Blaine had heard. But after the sting had gone, it didn't matter who heard him. He did it again, on the other leg this time, and felt his cock twitch in response.  
  
How would Blaine be, as a dom with this in his hand? Kurt thought about Blaine's strong arms. He could probably give Kurt a run for his money.  
  
Without even realizing it, Kurt had hit himself two more times, and he was already partially aroused. He looked down at his pale skin and noticed he had four healthy marks of his own.  
  
Kurt finished getting dressed into a tight black t-shirt and a pair of briefs. He left the riding crop on the sink and grabbed a wet wash cloth and the first aid kit. Kurt had one of his own; one of those big industrial kind in the metal boxes that businesses buy.  
  
When Kurt stepped out of the bathroom, he saw Blaine staring at him, as if he had been watching the door, waiting for Kurt to step out. Blaine whistled appreciatively at Kurt's state of undress.  
  
"What?" Kurt asked, climbing on the bed with the supplies.  
  
"It's not naked," Blaine commented, "but it will do."  
  
Kurt smirked. He noticed Blaine's eyes linger on the marks on Kurt's legs. He had heard the snapping of the crop...and the whimpering. If Kurt had taken any longer, Blaine would have been ready for round two.  
  
Kurt dabbed lightly at the welts with the cool, wet washcloth. Blaine hissed, then sighed as the cloth touched hs skin.  
  
"What were you doing there?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Experimenting." Kurt looked down at Blaine with a sly smile. "What do you think?"  
  
Blaine turned slightly so he could have a better look.  
  
"Nice, but it should be a crime to mark up such beautiful skin."  
  
Blaine turned back on his stomach, missing Kurt's jaw drop, and the blush that heated Kurt's skin.  
  
"Can I have a picture of yours?" Blaine muttered. "Seems only fair."  
  
Kurt shook his head, but grabbed his cell phone camera and positioned it in front of him to take a picture of his legs, slightly parted as he straddled the bed, to get a picture of the marks on his thighs. He immediately sent a copy to Blaine. Somewhere in the room they heard Blaine's phone chirp.  
  
"There," he said.  
  
"Next time you should let me help you."  
  
Kurt chuckled to hide his embarrassment.  
  
 _'So big gorgeous super star Blaine Anderson is also a mind reader. Figures.'_  
  
"I'm no switch, honey." Kurt said, and even though technically it was true, it felt like a lie. "I dominate. I don't let others dominate me."  
  
 _'Except in my dreams where you're tying me down, with ice melting in the perfect heat of your mouth, and your sucking my...'_  
  
"Can I ask you a question?" Blaine reached up a hand and pulled Kurt down to him, moving over a bit to hold Kurt against his naked body.  
  
Blaine ran his fingers over Kurt's shoulders and down his back, massaging lightly with his fingertips.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Blaine felt Kurt nuzzle against him. He didn't want to lose his warmth, didn't want Kurt to throw up walls and shut him out, but he was itching to know.  
  
"You were...were you...different?" Blaine tightened his arms around Kurt, trying to show him that he wasn't judging him, wasn't trying to embarrass him or hurt him in anyway...that he wanted to be there for him.  
  
Kurt went silent and still, and Blaine cursed himself. He should have just kept quiet and enjoyed what he had lying right there in his arms.  
  
"I...uh...think I was just a bit off my game today, that's all." Kurt tried to sound breezy and loose, but inside was a different story. He suddenly became petrified that Blaine would reject him. "I hope you didn't mind... I mean, I hope you still enjoyed it."  
  
"Yeah," Blaine answered quickly. "Yeah, I did. It was nice."  
  
Kurt sighed.  
  
When Blaine spoke again, Kurt was surprised to find that he and Blaine were thinking the same thing.  
  
"What...does this mean...for us?"  
  
"I don't know for sure," Kurt answered honestly. "But I have a feeling...the nature of this arrangement is going to change..."

* * *

  
  
Kurt waking up in Blaine's arms for a second time, the sound of the ocean outside the window, and the sun warming their skin was like the realization of a fantastic dream. At some point during the night, Blaine had threaded his hand into Kurt's hair and the other hand had traveled to rest on Kurt's ass. Kurt bit his lip to stifle a giggle, wondering for a moment what time it was...and then wondering why he even cared.  
  
He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about the fact that this wasn't his life, just a mid-point of time where he got to own this beautiful man and most likely, eventually, break his own heart.  
  
He felt Blaine stir, and thought he would open his eyes, but instead he moaned, rutted slightly against Kurt's leg, and squeezed Kurt's ass.  
  
Kurt couldn't help it. He broke into a fit of giggles. Blaine's eyes pulled open, blinking slowly as he tried to focus. Once the last remnants of sleep had been blinked away, Blaine smiled.  
  
"Oh, good," he said, closing his eyes again. "I'm still dreaming."  
  
Kurt grinned.  
  
"You're not dreaming, sweetheart," Kurt said. "Open your gorgeous eyes and look at me."  
  
Kurt was flirting shamelessly, but Blaine's sleepy words hit Kurt like an arrow to the heart.  
  
"No." Blaine shook his head. "I know how this works. I open my eyes and you disappear, and I'd rather sleep so I can keep you forever."  
  
Kurt was stunned. He remembered the last thing Blaine had said during their session last time.  
  
 _'Can I keep you?'_  
  
Of all the things they had done that night, all the things they had said, that was the one thing that Kurt kept replaying in his mind, on a constant loop. The look in Blaine's eyes, the quirk of his lips, the flush of his cheeks, and those four little words.  
  
 _'Can I keep you?'_  
  
Kurt closed his eyes. He shut them tight, blocking out the light of the sun and the sound of the waves. He focused on only the gentle inhale and exhale sounds of Blaine's breathing as he tried to find Blaine in his dreams.  
  
Kurt awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. Kurt looked at the screen. It said 'home'.  
  
 _'Shitshitshit!'_ Kurt chanted in his head. His heart raced as he bolted out of bed and answered the phone.  
  
"Hey, babe," Kurt rushed to say before Dave could speak a single word. "I was just on my way out the door."  
  
"Good." Dave's voice was low. Kurt could tell he was upset, and probably a bit disappointed in him. He would never be able to convince Dave now that he wasn't sleeping with Blaine. "I have to be at work in an hour."  
  
"I know, sweetie. I know."  
  
Kurt heard a sigh. It was the nickname that did it. Kurt felt guilty using it against Dave, but it worked every time.  
  
"Just drive safe. I'll see you soon."  
  
"Thanks, Dave. Bye." Kurt hung up and started tossing stuff into bags.  
  
"Hey," Kurt heard a sleepy voice say.  
  
Kurt turned and saw Blaine sitting up in bed, rubbing his hand through his hair. Kurt bit his lip trying to ignore the obvious erection tenting the sheet. The overall image of a sleepy Blaine was just too adorable for words.  
  
"Hey," Kurt said with a smile. "I slept through my alarm. I have to get going so Dave can get to work."  
  
"Okay." Blaine made to stand up, but decided that laying down and staying completely still was best. His body ached every time he moved and his skin stung where it pulled across his back.  
  
"Just lay down for a while," Kurt suggested. "But get up and exercise or something later or you'll stiffen up."  
  
Blaine watched Kurt pack his bags.  
  
"Why not just leave them?" Blaine asked. "I mean, you are coming back tonight, right?"  
  
It was a question, Kurt realized. Blaine thought Kurt had decided not to return after last night.  
  
Kurt didn't know if Blaine wanted him to.  
  
"If you want me to come back, then I'll come back," Kurt said. "That was the arrangement."  
  
Blaine sighed. He didn't like thinking of this as an arrangement. He had already paid Kurt. He didn't want to think about that anymore. Blaine got up on his hands and knees as Kurt approached the end of the bed. Blaine climbed over to where Kurt stood, kneeling before Kurt. Kurt watched him approach, breath caught in his throat.  
  
Blaine was still naked - beautifully, gloriously naked, every amazing inch of him on display. He locked eyes with Kurt as he knelt before him, then bowed low, hands on his knees, eyes downcast. Kurt could see the marks on Blaine's back as Blaine rested his forehead on the bed.  
  
"Please come back," Blaine said softly.  
  
Kurt's heart stuttered in his chest. He had marked this exquisite man, almost painfully, and in turn, he was begging Kurt to come back.  
  
"I will," Kurt breathed. "I promise I will."  
  
Kurt dropped his bags at the foot of the bed and took a moment to run his fingers through Blaine's messy curls. He wanted to drop down and place a kiss to Blaine's head, but he couldn't force himself to move. Kurt turned and left with his phone in his hands.  
  
It was one of the hardest things he had ever done.  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for bondage, masturbation, fingering, rutting, and a small injury that bleeds. Also, I would like to mention a thank you to my Bokwa teacher, who inspired Kurt Hummel, the aerobic instructor of Blaine's dreams, and my husband, who inspired the bartender of my dreams...

Kurt came home to see Dave, dressed in a suit and tie, pacing the one narrow hall of the house. Dave drew Kurt into his embrace like he hadn't seen Kurt for years. Dave looked deep into Kurt's eyes, and he knew. He saw the change, the distance. Kurt squeezed Dave's arm and smiled, seemingly unaware that Dave's whole world had just begun to fall apart.  
  
Kurt put the finishing touches on a rack of lamb before sticking in the oven when his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and saw the picture he had taken of Blaine, his eyes closed, lips poised in a small, sweet smile. He answered the phone quickly.  
  
"Hey!" Kurt sandwiched the phone between his head and his shoulder while he spoke. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Great." Blaine towel dried his hair.  
  
"Yeah, well, just don't go jumping in the ocean. I'm pretty sure your back won't thank you."  
  
Blaine didn't want to admit that was where he had just come from, and no, his back wasn't all too happy. But there was one good thing about it. It immediately reminded Blaine of Kurt...and he became incredibly turned on. A little salt in his wounds in exchange for a massive hard on. It seemed like a fair trade off.  
  
"I'll remember that," Blaine said. "Look, you mentioned exercising. Do you happen to know of a gym around here?"  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow, an expression wasted on Blaine who couldn't see him.  
  
"Well, I don't really know from gyms," Kurt commented. "And I don't live in Carlsbad."  
  
"But, you said you teach a class." Blaine dropped his towel, lay out naked on his bed, closed his eyes and listened to the sing song lilt of his angel's voice.  
  
"Yeah," Kurt confirmed. "Today, as a matter of fact. At the rec center downtown. It's kind of limited, but it has a weight room, and a boxing ring."  
  
"Well, that sounds perfect." Blaine had an overwhelming urge to touch himself while he talked to Kurt, pumping himself slowly while he listened to Kurt breathe. "When are you teaching? I could stop by and exercise, and then pick you up after. We can shower at my hotel..."  
  
Silence.  
  
Then Blaine remembered one of Kurt's intimacy rules.  
  
"Separately, of course," Blaine recovered, though he had really hoped for a steamy shower make out session.  
  
Kurt looked up at the ceiling while he mulled the idea over in his head, smiling and biting his lip. He tried to imagine Blaine, sweating, lifting weights, maybe punching a bag.  
  
"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Kurt said. "My class starts at 6. It's usually over by 7."  
  
"Great!" Blaine felt pleased with himself. He looked down at his own naked body, and then at the clock which read 4:30. Two and a half hours never seemed so long.  


* * *

  
Blaine ended up at the rec center earlier than he had intended. It gave him a chance to finish his workout, and then stop into the dance room and get an idea of the kind of class Kurt taught.  
  
Blaine opened the door slowly, trying not to attract too much attention, but the music in the room was so loud, Blaine was surprised he could still hear himself think. Beyonce's 'Single Ladies' bumped steadily through the speakers, and he could hear Kurt's voice above the din, calling out numbers and instructions.  
  
"Bend and up, up, up!" Kurt screamed, "And hands! I want to see hands! Seriously, girls, what would Ms. B say!?"  
  
Blaine smiled at the sound of Kurt's voice as he came around the corner.  
  
 _'Ah,'_ Blaine thought, _'there's my black sw-- oh dear God...'_  
  
Blaine was not prepared for the sight that greeted him. Standing in front of a large mirror in a tight black Spandex leotard was Kurt, shaking his hips with the music, moving his arms, sweat running down his face.  
  
Blaine vaguely noticed several women stare at him through the reflection in the mirror. He only had eyes for Kurt. When Kurt bent over Blaine almost stumbled. He had to stop walking so he didn't make too big a fool of himself. He grabbed the barre to steady himself, which shifted on its bolts and made an embarrassingly loud rattling noise. Blaine stared, fixated on Kurt's beautiful ass and thought, 'God, am I lucky.'  
  
A bunch of the women tittered, whispering behind their hands and giggling. Kurt finally noticed Blaine and smiled, winking subtly as he turned back to the sound system and started the song over.  
  
"Okay ladies, last time, and yes, the man in the back of the room is stunning, but let's focus, okay?"  
  
Blaine looked down at this feet and smiled, blushing to his roots.  
  
 _'Stunning. My black swan thinks I'm stunning.'_  
  
Kurt went over the 'Single Ladies' routine one last time with his class. Some of the women kept up with Kurt, most of them couldn't, some just blatantly stared at Blaine, or tried to get his attention. Blaine watched Kurt, possessed by his long legs and his swaying hips.  
  
God, he needed to have this man. He couldn't even get Kurt to kiss him.  
  
As soon as Kurt dismissed class, a group of students swarmed Blaine.  
  
"Are you Blaine Anderson? THE Blaine Anderson?"  
  
Blaine could feel Kurt's eyes watching him with amusement. Usually, Blaine lived for moments like this, when masses of giggly girls and women cornered him, asking for his autograph. But tonight was different. He didn't want anything to take him away from Kurt - his beautiful Kurt, dressed in his tight leotard, only a few feet away.  
  
"No," Blaine said, "I'm not Blaine Anderson. But I get that a lot."  
  
The women seemed disappointed, but not too disappointed. After all, Blaine, star or not, was hotter than the sun.  
  
"Now, now," an older woman said, pushing lightly at the horde who also happened to be blocking the only exit. "The man said he's not Blaine Anderson, and even if he was, it ain't no matter. It's obvious he's Kurt's."  
  
The women sighed with disappointment, some of them glared, but mostly the crowd dispersed.  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Marcoletti," Kurt called out. The older woman raised a hand in good-bye as she shuffled out the door.  
  
"Hey, beautiful." Blaine kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets since his first instinct was to grab Kurt and kiss him.  Instead, he watched Kurt gather up his things.  
  
"You look incredible," Blaine said, and got a sudden spark of inspiration. "Go dancing with me?"  
  
"What?" Kurt asked with a chuckle. "Dressed like this?"  
  
'Yes, please.'  
  
"No, we'll go back to the hotel and change, but after...will you?"  
  
Kurt stood up and went to shoulder his duffel, but Blaine grabbed it and put it over his own shoulder. Kurt watched the gesture, and smiled.  
  
"Sure, Blaine Anderson. It's a date."  
  
A date. Blaine thought about that word the entire drive back to the hotel. He thought about it while he showered, and even more while Kurt showered. Kurt showering in his bathroom seemed like such an intimate act. He stood by the door and listened to Kurt as he hummed quietly under the spray of the water. Blaine wondered briefly if Kurt would think he was a creeper if he stepped out and caught Blaine eavesdropping on him.  
  
Date Kurt might actually be hotter than dom Kurt, if that was even possible. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he was wearing dark skinny jeans, a black button down shirt of Blaine's, and a pair of almost industrial looking boots. His hair was perfectly styled and away from his face, and Kurt had even put dark eyeliner on that made his already amazing blue eyes pop.  
  
"Well, what do you think?" Kurt asked, giving Blaine a tiny spin.  
  
Blaine would have said amazing, terrific, wonderful...if he hadn't been completely tongue tied.  
  
"Well, thank you," Kurt giggled. "Let's go while the night is young."  
  
Kurt directed Blaine to a night club he went to when they first moved to San Diego. He remembered it being pretty hot as night clubs went, but for a young man with a new family, it didn't seem appropriate and he stopped going.  
  
Kurt bounded in like he owned the place. He stepped up to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila. The bartender - tall, slim, wearing a leather vest and pants - watched Kurt appreciatively as he picked up the shot using only his teeth and threw it back in one go. Blaine almost swallowed his tongue.  
  
"That's quite a talent you have there," the bartender commented, leaning forward on the bar to look into Kurt's ever changing eyes. Blaine noticed in the spinning strobe light coming off the dance floor that they had gone from blue to grey.  
  
"Definitely," Kurt said, grabbing for Blaine's hand. "My sub here certainly thinks so." With that, he brought Blaine's hand up to his mouth, slipping Blaine's middle finger between his lips. Closing his eyes, he sucked it into his mouth as far as it would go. Both men watched him in awe, but Blaine, on the receiving end of a tongue that wrapped nimbly around his finger and sucked hungrily, nearly passed out. Kurt let the finger slip back out passed his lips, chasing it for a second with his tongue before bouncing away in the direction of the dance floor.  
  
Blaine followed Kurt with his eyes.  
  
"You're a lucky man." The bartender looked at Blaine with admiration. He plucked the shot glass off the bar, holding it up to eye level. "I'm keeping this one. It's been touched by an angel."  
  
 _'No,'_ Blaine thought. _'A swan. My black swan.'_  
  
Blaine decided not to drink, in case Kurt decided to have another shot. He figured a drunk Kurt might be an interesting Kurt, and Blaine wanted to be sober enough to enjoy it.  
  
Blaine spotted Kurt. Instead of joining him, he just watched him, moving about with reckless abandon, throwing his hands up and spinning. Those hips, those sinful hips and the way they moved - Blaine could watch Kurt move those hips all night long. Blaine wanted to feel them move against his body. Blaine wanted Kurt to dance only for him.  
  
Eyes followed Kurt as he danced. He was completely in his element. Even though many men, and some women, tried to get close to him, Kurt always managed to move away, his body almost feline in its ability to slither out of reach.  
  
Blaine needed to be close to him. He walked toward Kurt, the pull of his body unmistakable. Half way across the floor, Blaine was accosted by a tipsy group of young women. He was caught in their circle on the dance floor and no matter how he tried to escape, they wouldn't let him go. Blaine knew they were talking to him, flirting with him, touching him, but he was trying to search out Kurt. Something in Blaine's head became frantic, and he felt a little lost...trapped.  
  
He was frightened for a moment that Kurt might have left...maybe even left with someone else.  
  
"Hey!" one of the women screeched and moved violently aside as pale, slender hands parted the group, grabbing Blaine by the hips, and nearly carrying him away.  
  
"Bitch!" he heard another of the women call after them, but Blaine didn't care. He was back with his angel, his terrifying black swan, and Kurt was owning him. Kurt had Blaine's hips secured in his hands, pulled tight against his body till there was no room between them. Kurt's shimmering eyes were locked on Blaine's, siphoning his will.  
  
Kurt grabbed Blaine's leg, lifting it up by the knee to the level of his hip, grinding shamelessly against him, revelling in the feeling of Blaine becoming hard. Blaine was a mess. He held onto Kurt's shoulders, running fingertips over Kurt's face, tracing the outline of his lips. Blaine tried to get as close as he could to Kurt, to breathe him in. Kurt smelled like alcohol and sex and every wet dream Blaine had ever had.  
  
Blaine pulled Kurt's face down to his, foreheads pressed together, staring deep into his eyes.  
  
"Kiss me," Blaine said.  
  
"No," Kurt said, a teasing smile twitching at the corner of his lips.  
  
"Why not?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Because," Kurt said, ghosting over Blaine's lips with his own, "I want you to beg me to kiss you."  
  
Kurt's lips continued to travel along the contours of Blaine's mouth, hovering but never quite touching. Blaine tried to steal a kiss, but Kurt was too quick, pulling back just enough to float barely out of reach. Blaine managed to coax Kurt back so that his face lingered close to his.  
  
"Then take me back to my room..." Blaine said, his voice quivering as he spoke, "and make me beg."  


* * *

  
Blaine's car flew down the highway in an effort to get them back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Kurt kept quiet as the drove, looking over at Blaine, watching the tension in his shoulders, the way he absentmindedly licked his lips while he drove, the tight grip his hands had on the steering wheel. This man was so close, and Kurt was thinking of all the things he could do to push him over the edge.  
  
The minute they stepped into Blaine's room, Kurt rounded on Blaine, pulling down his leather jacket to his elbows and holding it tight to constrict his arms behind his back. Kurt brought his face as close to Blaine's as he dared, Kurt's lips so close Blaine could almost feel them brush against his.  
  
"I have plans for you, princess," Kurt said, his whisper almost frighteningly soft and calm. He buried his face in the crook of Blaine's neck and inhaled, feeling Blaine's head drop backward. He took in the smells of the nightclub - cigarette smoke and too much perfume from that aggressive group of bitches on the dance floor - all fighting to hide Blaine's signature scent of cedar and cloves from whatever cologne he wore. Kurt sighed. He would never admit it, but he was pretty sure that's what heaven smelled like.  
  
"Get undressed and lie down." Kurt shoved playfully at Blaine's shoulder. Kurt turned and went into the bathroom.  
  
Blaine was excited, more excited than he had been since he started seeing Kurt. Seeing Kurt? Was he really seeing Kurt? He wanted to, oh God, how he wanted Kurt to be his. For now, this arrangement was all he had, and he was going to enjoy this time.  
  
The idea of kissing Kurt was what had him undressing in a flash and lying obediently in bed. So close, those gorgeous lips had been so close, and how many nights had he gone to bed dreaming of kissing those lips?  
  
There was more. The flirty smiles, the chats, the nights sleeping in his arms...and he had yet to have him.  
  
Kurt came out from the bathroom in record time. Usually the anticipation of Kurt was the most torturous - the time he spent getting ready in the bathroom while Blaine waited patiently, trying to will away his erection since Kurt would punish him for that. Here he was, Blaine's black swan, in an outfit that screamed 'Fuck me'. Kurt's black corset, pulled tight against his skin, gave him just the hint of an hourglass figure, and came up in chains that met a choker wrapped  around his neck, studded all around in silver. He had changed out of his jeans into an incredibly tight pair of faux leather pants.  
  
Kurt held up a strange silver cord, a quarter of an inch thick, wrapped in some kind of clear rubber.  
  
"This," Kurt explained, "is something I have that's a little more severe." While Kurt tied Blaine down he continued to explain. "If you tug on this too hard, you're definitely going to feel it." Blaine tugged on it a bit and could tell immediately that the sole purpose of this cord was to keep him immobile. When he tugged even lightly, it dug uncomfortably into his skin.  
  
Blaine swallowed, trying to imagine what Kurt had planned that he would need Blaine completely still for.  
  
Kurt straddled Blaine's hips, his strong thighs keeping him poised just above Blaine's crotch.  
  
"Now..." A devilish smile curled Kurt's lips, "I'm not going to touch you..."  
  
Blaine's breath hitched.  
  
"...and I'm not going to let you come."  
  
Kurt pulled a familiar black leather strap from his pocket. How anything fit in Kurt's pockets he had yet to figure out. Kurt quickly slipped the cock ring over Blaine, and pulled the straps tight.  
  
Blaine hissed a little, but couldn't waste energy caring when whatever exquisite torture Kurt had planned had yet to begin.  
  
Blaine watched as Kurt snaked his hand down the front of his own pants. Blaine followed the movement as Kurt's hand slipped beneath the waist band. Those tight pants left nothing to the imagination. Blaine could see Kurt's hand wrap tightly around his own erection.  
  
Blaine's jaw dropped.  
  
Kurt's eyelids fluttered closed as he rolled his head back and moaned.  
  
"Oh, God," he said, his sultry voice a breathy whisper.  
  
Kurt started moving his hand slowly, while his other hand threaded in his own chestnut hair.  
  
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt moaned.  
  
 _'No,'_ Blaine thought. _'Oh God, no.'_ Here was, trapped, naked, his black swan masturbating above him, moaning deliciously...moaning his name.  
  
Blaine pulled on his restraints, forgetting for a moment the thin wire. He stilled his arms. His hands twitching.  
  
He needed to reach him, needed to touch him.  
  
Kurt's fingers trailed down his face, slipping between his lips while he sucked on his fingers one at a time.  
  
Blaine licked his lips. He pulled again...harder.  
  
"My God, Blaine," Kurt continued. "Can you feel that? Can you feel how hard I am for you?"  
  
Blaine's breathing stuttered. He watched Kurt's fingernails lightly scratch over his perfect pale skin as they traveled over the corset, stopping momentarily to tug at the lacing, as if fighting to peel it open and off of his skin.  
  
Kurt's hips bucked up and down in time to his hand pumping slowly over his own cock. Blaine could barely glimpse the head as Kurt continued up and down, up and down, mimicking that he was riding Blaine.  
  
Blaine pulled again. He felt the cord cut into his skin, but it didn't quite register.  
  
Kurt's fingers continued their journey over his skin.  
  
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered into the dark. "Touch me, Blaine."  
  
Blaine watched in absolute agony as Kurt's fingers found their way down the back of his pants. Blaine felt them brush against his cock through the fabric of Kurt's pants and Blaine knew that Kurt had started fingering himself. Blaine's cock twitched, trying to find friction. Kurt managed to rock just out of reach.  
  
"God, Blaine." Kurt's voice, thick with lust and pleasure, teased Blaine. Every moan of his name from Kurt's lips shot through Blaine, cutting him with the need to engulf Kurt, to rock into him slowly, to make him cum over and over.  
  
If he could manage to make Kurt black out, it would be a dream come true.  
  
Right now, he couldn't even reach him.  
  
Blaine's name became a sadistic chant as it tumbled from Kurt's lips. Blaine saw a small bead of sweat forming over Kurt's temple, dripping slowly down Kurt's face. Kurt wasn't acting. He was going to cum. Blaine could see the ecstacy etched onto Kurt's features. Kurt definitely knew how to take care of himself.  
  
It was killing Blaine.  
  
Blaine shook in the bed, bucking his hips, pulling at his binds. He let out a scream of pure frustration. He thought his heart would explode. He could feel beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, down his arms, down his back, tickling his skin.  
  
This was cruel, and not because he wanted to cum.  
  
He wanted Kurt.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt gasped. He wondered, for a moment, if Blaine had forgotten what he wanted. "Weren't you going to beg me for something?"  
  
Blaine's mind went fuzzy. He couldn't remember. Beg him for something? Anything to make this torture stop. Anything to be close to his Kurt. But what was it? Blaine was overwhelmed. His senses were flooded. He pulled and pulled at the binds on his wrists and he could feel the cord cutting his skin, but he didn't care. He needed Kurt. He needed something.  
  
"Just ask me, Blaine," Kurt's head was rolling from shoulder to shoulder, eyes still closed, lips parted as Kurt continued to moan Blaine's name with abandon. "Oh, God, Blaine. I'm so close."  
  
"Please, Kurt," Blaine begged weakly. "Please, stop. I want..."  
  
"Want what?"  
  
Kurt looked like perfection. Blaine couldn't stand it. He tugged harder and winced at the pain, but he was beyond the pain. Kurt was too far. If Kurt was spanking him or whipping him, at least he would be touching him, but this was too much. Without realizing it, Blaine started crying.  
  
What he wouldn't do to replace Kurt's hand with his own, to worship his flawless skin with his lips.  
  
 _A kiss!_  
  
"Kiss me, Kurt," Blaine begged through his tears.  
  
"You want to kiss me?" Kurt slowed his hand.  
  
"Yes, Kurt," Blaine nearly whined. "Kurt, please, kiss me, please."  
  
Kurt opened his eyes with a triumphant grin, looking smugly over Blaine's face. Kurt's smile fell when he saw the tears in Blaine's eyes, the tracks they took as they spilled down his cheeks. He looked up at Blaine's bound wrists and gasped.  
  
"Oh my God. Blaine!"  
  
Kurt quickly untied Blaine's wrists which were covered with blood.  
  
"Blaine." Kurt ran to the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit. He started dabbing away the blood with a clean gauze, quietly thankful that the marks were ugly, but not deep. He wrapped his wrists in gauze, securing the ends with tape. Finally, he removed the cock ring.  
  
"Jesus, Blaine. You did this..." Kurt shook his head.  
  
"I needed that kiss," Blaine said softly, honestly, looking up to meet Kurt's eyes.  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine's lips, red from where he had bitten them. He leant over Blaine's body slowly, looking deep into his eyes as Blaine watched every move Kurt made. Kurt brushed his lips slowly against Blaine's once...then twice...then he claimed his lips softly, slowly.  
  
It had been a long time since Kurt had kissed anybody, and even then he didn't have much experience. Once his lips touched Blaine's, it seemed like Kurt knew exactly what Blaine needed. He felt Blaine go completely still, felt the moment his eyes fell shut, felt Blaine breathe him in.  
  
Kurt ran his tongue along Blaine's lips. Blaine's lips parted, and Kurt deepened the kiss, caressing Blaine's  tongue, enjoying the taste of his mouth.  
  
Kurt backed away too quickly for Blaine.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Blaine," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips. "I just...I'm so sorry. From now on, if you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask..."  
  
"Please kiss me, Kurt," Blaine asked sweetly. Kurt laid his body out over Blaine's. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, running his fingertips up and down Kurt's back, feeling Kurt shiver beneath his touch.  
  
Slowly, Kurt's lips touched Blaine's again, moving against his mouth, taking a moment to nibble Blaine's plush lower lip, delighting in Blaine's moan.  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
"I could get used to this," he whispered into Kurt's skin.  
  
"Used to what?"  
  
"Kissing you."  
  
"Ah." Kurt smiled. "I think I can, too."  
  
Blaine rolled Kurt onto the bed beside him, and started kissing a trail down Kurt's chin to his neck, sucking lightly. Kurt squirmed beneath Blaine's lips, long dormant nerves lighting on fire, sparking into flame. Blaine's hands traveled down the front of Kurt's corset, down to the waistband of those sinfully tight pants. His hands stilled for a moment when he realized Kurt was still hard.  
  
"Can I?" he whispered into Kurt's ear.  
  
Kurt almost stopped breathing. He could feel the warmth of Blaine's hand radiating down his body, felt it coiling around him in a peculiar way, as if his body was asking Blaine to touch him. It had been so long, so fucking long, since someone had touched him like that.  
  
This wasn't just anyone. This was Blaine. Not Blaine the television star, but just Blaine.  
  
This man that Kurt was falling in love with.  
  
Blaine's hand hovered, just out of the reach of Kurt's now straining cock.  
  
How could Kurt say no.  
  
He didn't trust his own voice to say yes, so he simply nodded.  
  
Blaine's hand slipped easily into Kurt's pants, and for a moment, after Blaine had wrapped his strong, sure fingers around Kurt's length, Blaine held him. Not moving, not stroking, just holding with a firm, constant pressure. Kurt couldn't understand why until it finally registered that the moan he was hearing echo around them was coming from his own mouth.  
  
Blaine's mouth covered his, and he kissed him, slowly slipping his tongue between Kurt's bruised lips. That's when the first move came. Blaine's hand pumped Kurt with long, languid strokes. Blaine luxuriated in the feel of Kurt in his fist, swallowing the gasps and moans that slipped passed Kurt's mouth and into his.  
  
Kurt didn't hear the bottle of lube open. He didn't realize Blaine had coated his fingers until he felt one drag slickly down his crack and circle his entrance. Kurt broke away from Blaine's mouth to look up into his honey-gold eyes.  
   
Blaine held his breath. Kurt's eyes looked wild, almost scared. He climbed slowly up onto his knees and pulled off his pants, tossing them over the side. He pushed Blaine onto his back and climbed over him, settling back on Blaine's hips. Blaine stayed still, watching Kurt carefully with almost predatory eyes. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling it towards his entrance.  
  
From that moment on, Kurt surrendered his control.  
  
 _'For once,'_ he thought. _'Just this once.'_  
  
Blaine slipped a finger into Kurt, slowly, achingly slow, passed the tight ring of muscle and into Kurt's heat. Kurt dropped his head to Blaine's shoulder, trying to focus solely on being...being with Blaine...and for a moment, his own happiness.  
  
Not everyone else's feelings. Not the burden of all his responsibilities.  
  
Just Kurt.  
  
Kurt, who was in love with Blaine.  
  
Kurt was confused. Confused by Blaine, and how he felt when he was with him, and what had happened that had turned this from just a regular job into...  
  
More confusion. What was this exactly?  
  
Kurt felt Blaine pull his body closer against him until their hips met, their cocks slotted together, and he started to move.  
  
There was nothing but heat. Every inch of Blaine's body, every touch of Blaine's lips against Kurt's skin, every move of Blaine's hips that forced their cocks to slide together, everything was just fire dancing over Kurt's skin.  
  
Kurt felt himself spiraling through the dark. Too much...all of a sudden it was all too much. Kurt could feel pressure building. He couldn't use his hands. He could barely breathe. Blaine's fingers had discovered all of his deepest secrets, and was using them viciously against him, finding spots that hadn't been touched in years. It seemed so easy, too. Kurt could feel himself light up from the inside. Blaine's tongue seemed in no hurry to leave Kurt's mouth, and though the kisses were long and relaxed, the snap of Blaine's hips and the pace of his fingers massaging deep inside Kurt were relentless.  
  
Kurt's body stopped being his own the moment he kissed Blaine. That scared Kurt.  
  
When Blaine broke their kiss to whisper, "Come for me, Kurt," it all seemed okay. It all seemed right.  
  
For once, Kurt did what Blaine commanded.  
  
Kurt came with Blaine, trembling against him, biting his lips in an effort not to scream.  
  
He didn't want to give Blaine that yet.  
  
Kurt floated for a moment in that space between ecstasy and reality. When his feet retruned back to the ground, he took back control. He cleaned them up, and rewrapped Blaine's brusied wrists. Blaine watched him with a smile on his lips so wide, so full of affection and happiness, it almost hurt Kurt to look at it.  
  
This time, when Kurt crawled into bed with Blaine, he did so with a lingering kiss good-night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for language. In this chapter, we get to know a bit more of what Dave is thinking, and I give a shout out to my own four beautiful children.

It was getting harder and harder for Kurt to force himself out of Blaine's bed every morning. This morning in particular he had to pull out his iPhone and look through his pictures of the kids to remind him why he was leaving this sexy devil, getting dressed, and walking out the door.  
  
Kurt hopped in the bathroom for a quick shower, trying hard to not wake Blaine. Kurt looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't quite recognize the person staring back at him. Instead of the Kurt he had gotten used to seeing for the last year or so, he saw someone young, happy, and dare he even think, beautiful? He saw the Kurt Hummel who had gone missing from his life. The Kurt Hummel he never thought he would see again.  
  
This Kurt Hummel had a hickey.  
  
 _'Fuck!'_  
  
Kurt showered, and then spent the next half hour trying to find the best way to hide the huge purple mark on his neck.  
  
Kurt heard a muffled knock on the bathroom door.  
  
"Kurt?" a sleepy voice said. "What are you doing? It's..." A brief silence as Blaine must have turned to look at the clock. "Ugh! It's 5:30! A. M.!"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
"Blaine, I'm in the bathroom. What do you think I'm doing? I'm making a salad."  
  
Kurt heard a sputtering laugh from the other side of the door.  
  
"Okay, mister," Blaine chided. "No more tequila for you."  
  
Kurt tossed on his shirt and walked back into the bedroom.  
  
Kurt saw a naked Blaine climb back into bed, moving aside the blanket and patting the mattress, beckoning Kurt to join him. Kurt lay down beside Blaine. Blaine open his eyes to look over Kurt, eyes stopping on the mark on his neck.  
  
"Nice." Blaine ran a finger over the bruise.  
  
"Shit!" Kurt exclaimed. "You can still see it?"  
  
"Yup," Blaine giggled.  
  
"What's so funny?" Kurt frowned at him.  
  
"It's just...you're hot when you curse."  
  
Kurt had to smile.  
  
"Now remember, I'll be by a little earlier in the afternoon, but I can't spend the night tonight."  
  
Blaine frowned.  
  
"Why not?" Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and started sucking on his fingers, one by one, trying to mimic the move Kurt had performed the night before on Blaine's finger.  
  
"Because," Kurt murmured, trying to think straight with Blaine's tongue wrapped around his index finger. "Dave's speaking at a LGBTQ center downtown, and he has to leave early to beat traffic."  
  
"What does he do there, anyway?" Blaine asked around Kurt's middle finger. Blaine sucked hard and Kurt moaned.  
  
"He...God, Blaine...he volunteers a couple of days a week. Shit! He's giving a speech about...uh...about...bullying..."  
  
"That's cool." Blaine smiled as Kurt snatched back his hand before the next assault.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's very important to him and I'm not going to be the reason he doesn't make it. But..." Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine chastely on the lips. "I promise I'll make it up to you."  
  
Blaine smiled as Kurt's lips touched his.  
  
 _'He kissed me!'_ Blaine cheered quietly in his head. 'And I didn't even have to ask.'  
  
"I'm looking forward to it." Blaine yawned, and Kurt tucked the blanket around him, kissing him one more time on the temple.  
  
Kurt thought that Blaine was right. He could get used to kissing Blaine.  
  
Kurt took one last look in the mirror before hastily tossing a scarf around his neck. He blew a kiss to Blaine, who had already started snoring softly. The sun had barely start to touch the horizon when Kurt raced to his car, shivering against the early morning chill.  
  
Kurt couldn't get his mind to shut down enough to have a peaceful drive home. The events of the night before played over and over again in his mind. Kissing Blaine. Blaine fingering him. Cumming in Blaine's arms. It was all so magical.  
  
Kurt knew it all came with a price.  
  
Kurt stepped quietly through the back door, hoping that no one had woken up yet.  
  
He loved spending time with Blaine, but he missed the kids. And Dave. Poor Dave. No matter what, he didn't want to hurt Dave, but unfortunately there was no way out of this that didn't end with at least one heart broken.  
  
Kurt started gathering pans and ingredients in the kitchen, preparing to put together the most elaborate 'I'm feeling guilty so I made food' breakfast he could scrounge up.  
  
An hour later, the sunlight began to stream in through the open curtains, and children started wandering into the living room, lured by the aroma of eggs, bacon, and Junior's favorite pancakes.  
  
Dave came in last, carrying little Elphaba in his arms. He smiled when he saw Kurt, busy in the kitchen, getting plates of food together for the kids. He watched Kurt ruffle Junior's hair, and kiss the girls. When he spotted Dave carrying the toddler, he came over smiling to kiss her on the forehead.  
  
"There's our Kurt," Dave said softly. "We missed you."  
  
"Yes, well, I've missed you guys." Kurt returned to the pancakes. "And I have to go to...uh...work...a little early today so I thought... since Dave has the day off we could all go to Legoland!"  
  
A general cheer went up from the collected kids, who started in eagerly on their breakfasts so that they could start getting dressed. Dave looked at Kurt and smiled. A day with Kurt and the kids. This was more like it. This was the way things should be.  
  
Legoland with the four kids was always an adventure. Junior and Dave usually went on any and every ride, which left Kurt with the three girls. Barbra had cerebral palsy - not to any extreme, thank goodness, but enough to  limit how far she could walk. Eva, being mildly autistic, was wary of loud noises. Elphaba was only two. The four of them spent most of their time in the various play areas instead of going on too many of the rides.  
  
Kurt and the girls were laughing and avoiding puddles in the water play area when Dave and Junior met up with them. They had just ridden the last roller coaster they had gone on five times and decided their limit had been reached. Kurt had sent Dave a text telling him that Barbra and Eva had just about reached their limits as well, and now would be a good time to get going home.  
  
Dave and Junior saw Kurt and the girls playing, completely oblivious to their presence. Junior jumped into a large puddle of water and managed to soak Barbra and Eva. Dave came up behind Kurt, who had Elphaba tucked securely into a baby carrier at his chest, and did the same. Dave thought that the look on Kurt's face as the splash of cold water hit his back, soaking his shirt, was well worth the wrath that he was about to unleash.  
  
"David Karofsky!" Kurt bellowed as he turned around. Junior, still busy tormenting his sisters, stopped short and stared, transfixed in utter terror at what Kurt might say. Kurt looked into Dave's face. He knew Dave was waiting for the fury to fly his way, and yet, Dave's eyes were laughing. Kurt felt a pang of guilt.  
  
This was his family, and they missed him.  
  
Kurt sighed. He started to giggle, and everyone relaxed. The kids surrounded Kurt, wrapping their arms around him. Kurt felt for a moment like he was in the final scene of some sappy musical, and waited for a moment for the music to start.  
  
"Oh no." Dave chuckled, staring at Kurt.  
  
"What?" Kurt asked, looking down at himself, and his ruined shirt.  
  
"Well, you have, leaves and stuff..." Dave couldn't finish. He slowly started picking leaf litter off of Kurt's shoulders and out of his scarf. Then he took the sleeve of his shirt and wiped water from Kurt's cheek and neck.  
  
Kurt remembered the moment he saw the smile on Dave's face fall.  Kurt's hand flew instinctively to the mark on his neck. Dave adverted his eyes and cleared his throat.  
  
 _'Shitshitshit!'_  
  
"Dave, I..."  
  
"Come on, guys!" Dave recovered, smiling at the kids. "What do you say we grab some lunch and head back home."  
  
The kids cheered knowing that lunch after Legoland meant Happy Meals. Junior took his sisters' hands and headed for the gate.  
  
Dave started following them. Kurt grabbed his arm.  
  
"Dave, please. Let me explain..."  
  
Dave sighed. He turned back to Kurt, surprising Kurt with an almost shy smile.  
  
"It's alright, Kurt," Dave said, taking Kurt's hand in his. "It's alright if you like him. You look happy, and I want you to be happy. Let's just...can we just go have lunch and not talk about...this?"  
  
Dave's puppy dog eyes, almost as lethal as Blaine's, melted Kurt's heart.  
  
"Of course." Kurt squeezed Dave's hand, letting himself be pulled along.  
  
"Dave?" Kurt and Dave rushed to catch up to the kids.  
  
"Yes, Kurt?"  
  
"You're not getting a cheeseburger."  
  
Dave laughed.  
  
"The hell I'm not."

* * *

  
  
Dave's smile never faltered for the remainder of the afternoon. He joked with Kurt while they ordered their food. They talked over what Dave would say at the assembly tomorrow. When Kurt got ready to go see Blaine, Dave helped him into his jacket, smoothing it out over his shoulders, and then hugged him platonically good-bye.  
  
Yup, Dave supported Kurt's new relationship 110,000%...on the outside.  
  
Inside his brain he felt like he was riding the Titanic straight into the ocean.  
  
Dave had always hoped that he and Kurt would end up together. Even in high school, when he didn't truly know himself all that well, he knew he wanted Kurt. The circumstances that led to them finally living together could not be considered ideal, to say the least. Dave had hoped that if something good could come from it, it would be that Kurt might fall in love with him and then they could be a real family.  
  
Dave had a five-year plan. He would give Kurt space, and time, and try to be the best man he could be. He'd finish school, become an agent, and give Kurt and the kids the life they deserved.  
  
So far, he had managed to fail spectacularly.  
  
First, they had to leave L.A. when they couldn't afford to stay there. That took a big toll on the kids especially. Then Kurt had to get that job. Watching Kurt leave every night, watching him make those clothes that he had to wear, knowing that he touched men in sexual ways, killed Dave. Some nights, Dave stayed up crying in the living room. Every night he waited up diligently for Kurt to return.  
  
Dave only ever saw Kurt cry once. After that, when he left for work, Kurt became a formidable ice queen.  
  
No one ever saw Kurt Hummel sweat.  
  
That's one of the reasons why Dave loved him so much.  
  
Dave hadn't lied when he said he wanted Kurt to be happy, but Blaine Anderson was going to mess everything up.  
  
Dave could see this ending in only one of two ways - either Kurt and Blaine live happily ever after, or Blaine breaks Kurt's heart and Dave wins by default.  
  
Winning by default was still winning, but that's not what Dave wanted. Dave wanted Kurt to fall in love.  
  
Kurt _was_ falling love. Just not with Dave.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for homophobic language, homophobic slurs, handcuffs, bondage, and outdoor oral sex.

Blaine couldn't sleep comfortably without Kurt lying beside him. Kurt's warm body fit perfectly with his, no matter what position they slept in. The soothing scent of Kurt's shampoo calmed Blaine's mind. The slight hum of his breathing reminded Blaine of his constant presence, even in sleep.  
  
Without those things, Blaine's cold and empty room felt like his house in L. A. Without Kurt, his mind churned with the constant reminder that eventually his time in San Diego would come to an end, and then he would return to toxic people and a job he had begun to hate.  
  
Blaine replayed over and over again his night with Kurt. He thought of Kurt in his skin tight black leotard teaching his hip-hop class. He lingered on the memory of Kurt drinking his shot of tequila using only his teeth to hold the glass. He dreamt of being tied down by that horrible silver cord while Kurt masturbated above him, an evil glint in his stormy grey eyes.  
  
All those things had been, without a doubt, super hot.  
  
But the things that started to stand out in Blaine's memory were the things that weren't dirty or blatantly sexual. The excited sound in Kurt's voice when he answered the phone, knowing Blaine was calling. The way Kurt smiled when he saw Blaine through the reflection of the mirror in the dance room. The way he spun in place to model his outfit for Blaine. The way Kurt bandaged Blaine's wrists, so carefully.  
  
The kisses. All the kisses. Especially the one to his temple this morning after Kurt had tucked him into bed.  
  
Blaine couldn't forget the most significant thing of all.  
  
Kurt had surrendered to Blaine.  
  
All of that strength, all of that confidence, all of that control - it had melted in Blaine's arms, in the snap of his hips, beneath the touch of his fingers.  
  
Blaine managed to drift into a restless sleep, but woke again hours later to the sound of the Facebook alert on his iPhone. Knowing he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, he picked up the phone to check the message.  
  
Kurt Hummel posted a picture on his timeline.  
  
Blaine had created a special secret account so that he and Kurt could be Facebook friends.  
  
Blaine's pseudonym was Princess Anderson. For his profile picture, Blaine used a snapshot he had taken with his phone on the sand outside his room of one of Kurt's vinyl boots and Blaine's riding crop lying over it.  
  
Kurt had laughed for a good half hour after seeing that, but had immediately friended Blaine.  
  
Blaine opened the app to see numerous pictures of the kids at Legoland, some with Kurt, some with Dave. There was a picture of Dave and Junior in a roller coaster car that looked like a dragon made out of legos. Another featured Eva pretending to terrorize the tiny lego inhabitants of San Francisco. In the next one, Kurt and all of the kids sat in a boat that seemed to move really slowly. Shot after shot of Kurt, Dave and the kids flashed on his screen, and Blaine couldn't help but smile. The final shot was of Kurt and Dave, most likely taken by one of the kids since it was taken from what had to be knee level looking up, and cut off part of Dave's head. The two were arm in arm, smiling, Kurt flashing his adorable open mouth grin.  
  
Blaine didn't feel quite as guilty anymore, knowing that Kurt's relationship with Dave wasn't a romantic one.  
  
Besides, things between them were changing, and the more Blaine learned about Kurt and Dave and the kids, the more he found he didn't want to tear this family apart...he longed to become a part of it.  
  
His Facebook alert sounded again.  
  
Kurt Hummel posted a picture to your timeline.  
  
Blaine opened the photo and immediately smiled. A photo of Kurt filled the screen. Kurt was making a kissie face to the camera. The caption said, "See you soon, Princess Anderson. Hope you're ready for me."  
  
"Bring it on, baby," Blaine said, kissing the screen back.

* * *

  
  
Blaine spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the room. He borrowed a vacuum cleaner from management and cleaned up all of the sand. Then he went out and bought new sheets. He opened the windows so that the room could fill with the cool ocean air. He showered and dressed in clothes that he remembered Kurt really liked - his dark blue button down shirt that Kurt said made his eyes look like burnished gold, and a pair of dark jeans that Kurt had mentioned made his ass look delicious. Burnished gold and delicious definitely worked for him.  
  
When he heard the knock at the door, Blaine almost tripped over the bed to answer it. He threw the door open without checking the peep hole.  
  
"Hello, gorgeous," he said to a face he didn't expect.  
  
Mia smiled luridly at him.  
  
"Well, hello to you, too, handsome." Mia forced her way passed an astonished Blaine. Blaine came back to himself when she sat on the end of the bed, bouncing suggestively, and humming with approval.  
  
"Nice place you rented." MIa swept over the cozy room with judgmental eyes. "Not a lot of space, but it would still be nice and cozy for two, don't you think?"  
  
"Mia," Blaine said, glued to his spot at the open door. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Sebastian told me you ran away for some thing called a staycation, and since I didn't have anything too exciting planned, I thought I'd come join you."  
  
Mia smiled like the cat who had just caught the canary. The canary who thought he'd been safely hidden away this whole time.  
  
"Not to be rude," Blaine ground out between clenched teeth and a forced smile, "but I'm kind of expecting someone." Blaine made a point of looking down at his watch, which he wore to cover up the bandages on his wrist. "Any minute now, as a matter of fact. So, thank you for stopping by, drive safely, and don't feel the need to stop by again."  
  
"Yeah." Mia stood up from the bed and walked to a group of bags by the closet. "Sebastian told me something about that." Mia kicked one of the bags with the toe of her shoe, raising an eyebrow at Blaine. Kurt had left his gear bag open, with Blaine's riding crop on top. "You and this freak. It's sick, you know, and a little offensive considering you wouldn't even let me tie you up."  
  
Blaine gripped the wood of the door, hearing it creak beneath his grasp. Mia could say whatever she wanted about him, but Kurt was something different entirely.  
  
"You have no right to talk about him like that." Blaine stepped away from the door, walking in her direction.  
  
"I have every right!" She turned on Blaine, furious. "I am your girlfriend!"  
  
"Are you kidding me?" Blaine laughed bitterly. "This," he motioned between the two of them, "isn't real. It's manufactured. And we kept it up because, frankly, we had nothing better. But, now I do."  
  
"Yeah." Mia huffed. "You're paying for it though, aren't you?"  
  
Mia's words stung. Blaine still thought about it. She was right. He had paid Kurt. Mia didn't know that things were different now. Kurt cared for him... didn't he?  
  
"And you're going to pay," Mia continued. "You and your little freak, if you don't come back to L.A."  
  
"This is my time off." A bit of Blaine's confidence slipped. "I get to spend it the way I choose, and I'm staying here."  
  
Mia laughed mockingly at him.  
  
"Your time doesn't belong to you. _You_ don't even belong to you. If you haven't forgotten, your life is _Sing_."  
  
Blaine went back to the open door, staring at Mia pointedly, and quietly stood his ground.  
  
"Well," Mia said, pushing herself uncomfortably into Blaine's personal space. "Let me give you an idea of how things are going to go. You're going to forget about all of this..." Mia gestured to the room, and specifically Kurt's belongings, "and come back to L.A. with me. _Now_!"  
  
"Mia..." Blaine tried to maintain control, trying to channel some of Kurt's strength from his open gear bag lying on the floor. "Let me make this clear. I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm on vacation. You're going to leave."  
  
Mia stared into Blaine's eyes, tried hard to stare him down, but Blaine's hand on the door and Kurt's belongings nearby became his anchor, and he refused to move.  
  
"Fine," Mia huffed. "But this is not over."  
  
Mia turned on her heel and walked quickly away, pulling out her phone and punching in a number. Blaine wondered momentarily who she could be calling. When she had walked up the road and out of sight, Blaine dropped his head in relief. Blaine leaned against the open door, heart pounding in his throat. He heard what sounded like Mia's voice in the distance mutter something unpleasant, and then the sound of her Porsche driving away. Blaine didn't have time to compose himself when he heard foot steps coming up the walk. He looked up to see Kurt, his angel, walking toward the doorway with a large bouquet of mixed flowers in his hands and a reuseable shopping bag over his arm.  
  
"Hey!" Kurt greeted Blaine in that lilting voice that always made Blaine smile. Regardless of the unpleasantness with Mia, the smile returned, a little sadder and more reserved, but there nonetheless. Kurt leaned in quickly to kiss Blaine on the cheek. Blaine took the flowers and the bag and walked with Kurt inside.  
  
"Do you know," Kurt said, closing the door and locking it, "that a woman who looked exactly like Mia Bradley dressed in horrible Jimmy Choo knock offs just called me a twink in the parking lot?"  
  
Blaine put down the flowers and the bag. He came up to Kurt, pulled him into his arms possessively, and kissed him. Kurt yelped as Blaine's lips unexpectedly claimed his. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders, running his hands through Blaine's freshly washed curls, and breathing in his scent.  
  
Blaine held Kurt tight against him, feeling Kurt's breath as it caught in his throat, Kurt's hair tickling his skin, the firm muscles of Kurt's body melding with Blaine's body. Blaine wouldn't let Kurt pull away, and after a moment of half-hearted attempts, Kurt gave up and let Blaine kiss him dizzy. The world spun sweetly behind Kurt's eyelids, and Kurt wanted to laugh from the sensation of falling into this kiss with Blaine.  
  
Blaine finally, reluctantly pulled away.  
  
"What was that for?" Kurt asked, gidddy and breathless.  
  
"I miss you when you're not here." Blaine felt the need to put his heart on the line a bit. "Because you're so amazing, and I really cherish our time together. I can see myself falling for you...taking care of you..."  
  
Overwhelmed by his words, Kurt kissed Blaine again. He needed to stop him. Blaine couldn't have known that every word he said was every thing Kurt had ever wanted to hear...and was everything he couldn't have.  
  
Or how close Kurt was to admitting he loved Blaine. The words were there, on the tip of Kurt's tongue, ready to tumble out right after that kiss.  
  
Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes. They had changed from the intense gold with the lust blown pupils that Kurt had become so accustomed to seeing. These eyes were syrup and honey and showed Kurt everything he wanted.  
  
"I..." Kurt knew Blaine was waiting for a response, but he didn't know what to say. "I wanted to do something special for you." Kurt needed to break away from Blaine, but he thought maybe if he could just keep kissing Blaine, they could stay wrapped up in each other forever.  
  
"What is that, baby?"  
  
Blaine stayed close, stayed connected. It would be so easy to give up and just drag Blaine to bed.  
  
Kurt smiled, and instead of putting distance between him and Blaine, maneuvered the two of them into the kitchen. He sat Blaine into a retro metal stool by the island.  
  
"Well, since you didn't ask me yesterday to tell you something you didn't know about me, I decided to show you..." Kurt kissed Blaine. "...that I am an amazing cook."  
  
Kurt started unloading things from his bag as Blaine watched. The first thing he took out was a bottle of wine, nestled in a glass vase full of ice. Blaine smirked playfully.  
  
"Well, that's smart."  
  
"Isn't it?" Kurt agreed. "Just maximizing space."  
  
Kurt grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and the cork screw from the utensil drawer, and poured Blaine a glass of wine. Blaine watched mesmorized by how at home Kurt seemed. The domesticity of it comforted Blaine. It reminded him of home with his mom and dad before he left to pursue his dreams.  
  
"I hope you can appreciate a dry white." Kurt slid Blaine the glass. "I'm making fish."  
  
Kurt rinsed out the vase and put the flowers into, arranging and rearranging the tulips and the gerbers until they looked just right. Kurt's presence soothed Blaine all over again, his voice as he talked about everything and nothing, the sway of his hips as he walked, his eyes which always seemed to shine when they looked Blaine's way.  
  
Still, Mia's surprise visit had him unhinged, and try as he might, his thoughts went back to her words.  
  
"Sweetheart," Kurt asked, noting Blaine's solemn expression, and his still full wine glass. "What's wrong?" Kurt gasped. "Oh, no. Does the wine suck? I've had it for a while now. It didn't turn to vinegar, did it?"  
  
Kurt poured himself a glass and took a sip, swishing it gently in his mouth and then swallowing it.  
  
"No." Kurt looked up with a thoughtful expression. "It's not perfect, but it's okay."  
  
Blaine chuckled fondly.  
  
"No...no, it's not the wine. It's...just life..." Blaine wanted to get up and hold Kurt close "...threatening to ruin my beautiful dream."  
  
Kurt preheated the oven and set out a wood plank. He took from his bag a sizeable piece of salmon and put it on the plank.  
  
"I don't understand." Kurt looked up to see Blaine looking back down at his wine.  
  
"That _was_ Mia. In the parking lot. I'm sorry she called you a twink."  
  
"What?" Kurt stopped his knife mid-cut while chopping bell peppers. "How did she find you?"  
  
Blaine didn't want to admit that he had told Sebastian. At the time, he didn't see the harm.  
  
"I don't know. I think she has an uncle in the CIA or something," Blaine mumbled.  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
"She threatened me. Like she owns me. She told me to go back to L.A. because..." Blaine traced his finger over a spot on the counter. Kurt put down the knife and took Blaine's hand.  
  
"Because what?"  
  
"Because my time doesn't belong to me. I don't belong to me."  
  
_'That you're only here because I paid you.'_  
  
It would have been the truth. She did say it, and Blaine, shamefully, did think it. But he couldn't. It wouldn't be fair.  
  
Kurt chewed his lower lip, looking at Blaine.  
  
"I think I know just what you need." Kurt covered the fish and put it in the fridge. He washed his hands, then took Blaine's hand and led him out to the patio. The chair Kurt used in the mornings still sat out there, facing the ocean. Kurt pushed Blaine gently into it. He climbed into Blaine's lap. He looked longingly into those gorgeous, syrup colored eyes and kissed him, delicately slipping his tongue between Blaine's lips, not demanding control, just trying to offer comfort.  
  
Kurt ran his hands up and down Blaine's arms, pushing them further behind Blaine's back. Enthralled in Kurt's passionate kiss, Blaine didn't notice the cuffs until they clicked shut. Blaine's eyes popped open, startled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Blaine," Kurt started, massaging Blaine's arms, bound by the cuffs. "I think we can admit that I pretty much have you at my mercy right now, correct?"  
  
"Uh, yeah?" Blaine was a little more aroused and confused than concerned.  
  
"Just because I have you locked down in this chair, doesn't mean I own you, does it?" Kurt sucked lightly on Blaine's neck. "It doesn't make you.. mine?"  
  
Kurt gulped when he realized what he had said.  
  
Blaine heard it, too.  
  
"Your mind is still yours," Kurt continued. "Your heart. Your talent. No one can take those things away."  
  
Kurt climbed off of Blaine's lap, and walked behind him so he had an unrestricted view of the water.  
  
"You're still free, sweetheart. As free as you let yourself be..."  
  
Kurt kissed Blaine's neck where it met his shoulder, heard Blaine moan beneath his mouth as he squirmed a little to get closer.  
  
"Just look out at the water," Kurt whispered against his skin. "Concentrate on the smell of the ocean."  
  
Kurt continued to kiss around Blaine's neck until his tongue was tickling around the first undone button of his shirt.  
  
"Listen to the sound of the waves."  
  
Kurt massaged circles into Blaine's scalp with his fingertips.  
  
"Feel the sun on the horizon, warming your skin."  
  
Kurt ran his hand through Blaine's hair, pulling gently at his curls, tilting his head so Kurt could have better access to his neck. Kurt ran his tongue over Blaine's skin, sucking small marks down the column of his neck, before sinking to his knees.  
  
"Have I ever told you how delicious your ass looks in these jeans?" Kurt quickly unzippered Blaine's pants.  
  
"You may have mentioned it." Blaine blushed. "Frankly, I'm not sure if I remember."  
  
Blaine chuckled nervously as he lifted up a little so Kurt could pull down Blaine's pants and underwear.  
  
"It does," Kurt said. "And so does this, I might mention."  
  
Kurt wasted no time taking Blaine into his mouth. Blaine bucked involuntarily at the intense heat of Kurt's mouth, and the velvety feel of Kurt's tongue massaging his skin.  
  
Kurt giggled.  
  
"Let me take care of you."  
  
All thoughts of MIa and Sing disappeared as Kurt sucked smoothly along his cock.  Kurt didn't waste time teasing, starting a rhythm of sucking and bobbing with purpose. Kurt's soft, strong lips never seemed to tire, his tongue fantastic as it managed to caress up and down the side of Blaine's cock, flicking up over the head every so often.  
  
Blaine wanted to touch Kurt, to run his fingers through his hair, but to what avail? What about this moment could Blaine actually improve? The sun on his face, not a care in the world, and the talented mouth of an amazing dom...an exceptional man, worshipping his cock. Blaine relaxed against the chair, moaning unbidden into the twilight, and as the stars started to make an appearance in the darkening sky, Blaine came down Kurt's throat. Kurt's hands held Blaine's hips still so he could take everything Blaine had to offer.  
  
Once Blaine's body had stopped trembling beneath Kurt's lips, Kurt pulled away. Kurt panted about as hard as Blaine, the smile on his face equally as bright. Kurt tugged up Blaine's underwear and jeans before removing the cuffs. Kurt looked up at Blaine as he stood, meeting Blaine's mouth, feeling Blaine's still quivering lips as they welcomed the feeling of Kurt again - Kurt's strength, Kurt's tenderness, Kurt's particular sweet taste of coffee and peppermint mixed with the dry white wine and now, Blaine.  
  
"I'll finish dinner and bring it out here. Okay, sweetheart?"  
  
Kurt cupped Blaine's cheek gently as he kissed Blaine's forehead, before disappearing back through the patio doors and into the kitchen.  
  
Blaine remembered this later as the most incredible sunset of his life.  
  


* * *

  
  
_'Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know,'_ Blaine's text read.  
  
  
Kurt had gotten home just as he had promised Dave he would, helped with baths and showers, bedtime stories, and tucked the kids into bed. The trailer they lived in had a handful of rooms, but only one suitable for sleeping. It was the only room that got warm at night in the winter, and where the ceiling didn't leak...as much. Dave and Kurt had set up all the beds in there temporarily until they could afford a new place.  
  
So everyone was present as Kurt texted Blaine, giggling under the covers like a teenaged girl.  
  
"Are you still talking to him?" Dave asked, one tired eye open. "You just saw him a few hours ago."  
  
"I know, I know," Kurt said apologetically. "I won't be long. I know you have an early morning."  
  
Dave groaned and turned away. When Dave settled under the comforter, he sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'I shouldn't be telling you this, but some of my clients are REALLY weird.'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Weird? How? Tell me? Slowly and with lots of details?'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'Are you masturbating?'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'And if I was?'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'Well...I would be jealous...and maybe a little turned on...'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'A little?'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'Okay, a lot, which is unfortunate seeing as I am in bed with, like, everyone right now.'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Tell me.'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'It's...kind of hard to explain.'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Is that a pun?'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'No, perv. It's just easier to show you, that's all.'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Then come over.'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'I can't right now.'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Meanie...'_  
  
_From: Kurt_  
_'I promise I'll show you tomorrow night.'_  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Promise?'_  
  
"Kuuurt!" This time it was Barbra.  
  
"Okay, okay," Kurt whispered into the darkness. "I'm going to sleep."  
  
Kurt felt his phone vibrate and looked down.  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_'Till tomorrow night, I guess. I'm going to jerk off now and think of you.'_  
  
Kurt giggled again. A storm of pillows and stuffed animals hit Kurt in the head.  
  
"Alright!" Kurt said through giggles.  
  
_'I've been reprimanded,' Kurt texted back. 'I've got to go. XOXO <3'_  
  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cross dressing, anal sex, bondage, mention of a previous injury.

Kurt showed up to Blaine's bungalow with another small piece of luggage. Blaine raised an eyebrow when he saw it. Kurt smiled sweetly.  
  
"I made you a promise, and I'm a man of my word." Kurt put the luggage on the bed, then turned and took Blaine into his arms. Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine. Blaine noticed right away that this kiss fought him for dominance, Kurt's tongue aggressively sweeping through Blaine's mouth. Kurt stopped to bite Blaine's lip, almost painfully, sending sparks shooting through Blaine's body.  
  
His black swan had something up his sleeve.  
  
Blaine felt Kurt reach for the zipper of Blaine's pants. Blaine sighed.  
  
"I thought we were going to a movie first?"  
  
Blaine moaned at the feeling of Kurt's fingers firmly massaging his cock, rousing it to attention.  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"We are." Kurt continued to kiss Blaine, barely breaking away to speak. "But you wanted to know how weird some of my clients could get, so I have to get you ready."  
  
Kurt pulled away from the kiss to pull down Blaine's pants.  
  
Blaine hastely kicked off his shoes while Kurt tugged his pants down and off, then his underwear. Kurt left Blaine, half dressed and wanting while he went to rifle through the contents in the luggage on the bed. Blaine saw several things he didn't quite understand, but his black swan was full of surprises.  
  
Blaine definitely liked surprises.  
  
Blaine watched as Kurt came back, seemingly with nothing in his hands. Kurt started to pull Blaine's pants back on.  
  
"So, weird is going commando?" Blaine asked. "Because if that's weird, I've been weird for a while now."  
  
"Tsk, tsk," Kurt tutted. Blaine shivered at the sound. Kurt's dominatrix wanted to come out and play. "Don't behave that way, or else I'm going to have to spank you before we go, and that might make sitting in a movie theater a little uncomfortable."  
  
The thought of a quick spanking turned Blaine on, though, and he bit his tongue to still the urge to beg for one.  
  
Kurt pulled Blaine's pants up to just below the swell of Blaine's ass. Blaine didn't know why being partially dress this way turned him on so much. Maybe because even without ties or cords or handcuffs, his mind was entirely at this gorgeous man's mercy. Kurt had Blaine under his complete control. Blaine knew he would do whatever Kurt asked...always.  
  
That knowledge turned him on. It gave him strength.  
  
Kurt pulled something blue and black, and somewhat silky looking out of his pocket. He took the fabric and rubbed it along Blaine's clean shaven cheek. It felt cool and smooth against Blaine's skin. Kurt dragged it along Blaine's erection, and Blaine sighed. He closed his eyes and felt the material drag between his legs, over his ass, around his hips.  
  
"There," Kurt whispered, declaring himself done. He kissed Blaine again, slowly moving his lips over Blaine's taking one of Blaine's hands gently and bringing it down to feel the fabric haging from his hips.  
  
Blaine pulled away quickly and looked down his own body.  
  
Blaine was wearing panties - beautiful, delicate, blue and black satin panties that tied at the hips. Blaine should have felt emasculated, humiliated...and in anyone else's presence, he definitely would have. Blaine looked into Kurt's approving face, his hungry eyes fixed on Blaine's erection straining against the delicate fabric. Kurt chewed on his lower lip, hand rubbing absentmindly over his own growing erection through the fabric of his jeans. Blaine felt sexy...desired. He stood straighter beneath Kurt's appreciative gaze.  
  
"You know," Kurt purred when he finally moved to pull up Blaine's pants and fasten them back up, "it seems a shame to cover these up. You look so hot wearing those. Blue is definitely your color."  
  
Blaine felt himself go hot; a flush of pure lust started from where Kurt's thumbs lingered at the ties of the panties, rubbing small circles into the skin of his hips, all the way up to the roots of his hair.  
  
Kurt nibbled on Blaine's earlobe as he continued to lavish his sub with praise.  
  
"And you keep yourself so well trimmed. The overall image is very attractive." Kurt rubbed his own erection over Blaine's, causing the satin fabric to slide over Blaine's incredibly hard cock. Kurt traced Blaine's lips with his tongue. "Mouthwatering, even."  
  
"So," Blaine said, voice trembling slightly as Kurt's mouth moved to his neck. "Th-this kind of thing...t-turns you on?"  
  
Kurt pulled away to look into Blaine's face, and for the first time he got a good look at his black swan's eyes, grey and startling like the clouds that form the vortex of a powerful storm.  
  
"It never has before."  
  
Blaine's knees went weak when Kurt put an arm around Blaine's waist, placing his hand to the small of his back. Another hand grabbed Blaine roughly by the back of his neck. Kurt pulled Blaine hard against him, searing his lips with his kiss. Kurt kissed Blaine so forcefully that Blaine was sure his lips would bruise. He didn't care.  
  
Kurt pulled away with a wicked grin, eying the swollen lips of his breathless sub.  
  
"There," Kurt said with a triumphant smirk. "Now no one will get any bright ideas."  
  
Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand with a shy smile, and just like that, his angel returned.  
  
 

* * *

  
Blaine thought wearing a pair of panties would be uncomfortable. He remembered when his friend Wes was in college, he mentioned being forced to wear panties as part of a fraternity hazing ritual. Wes said they didn't fit right, didn't support anything, and kept sliding up his crack.  
  
Blaine had a suspicion that the ones Kurt put on him were specially made. They weren't uncomfortable in the least. They didn't shift or slide. Best of all, no unfortunate wedgies. Since Blaine wasn't distracted by any discomfort, all he could think about was the look in Kurt's eyes, like Kurt wanted to devour Blaine, rip the panties from his hips with his teeth and explore Blaine's body with only his tongue.  
  
Blaine couldn't remember what movie they saw. They went to the theater, Kurt hugging Blaine's arm as they walked up to the ticket booth. They got a small popcorn and soda to share, which was eaten and drunk before the previews even ended. The movie started, but neither Blaine or Kurt watched it, opting instead to make out in the back of the theater.  
  
Kurt and Blaine kissed softly, enjoying the feeling of each other's lips and skin. Kurt knew most of Blaine's weak spots, nibbling on his earlobe gently, sucking small marks on his neck where it met his shoulder. Blaine had begun to learn what Kurt liked, too. Blaine licked slowly down the column of Kurt's pale neck, returning to his mouth to suck suggestively on Kurt's tongue.  
  
They tried to be as quiet as they could, swallowing each other's moans as soon as they escaped their lips. Luckily, they went to a movie that had already been out for weeks, so not too many people were there. And since Blaine had chosen the movie, there were plenty of car crashes and explosions to cover up any groans that slipped through.  
  
Kurt couldn't stop smiling. He had never done this before - made out with a gorgeous man in a movie theater. Actually, he had quite a few firsts to start crossing off his list. Maybe he could do them with Blaine.  
  
They were interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared. Kurt and Blaine both looked up in unison to see the smiling face of an older female usher looking down at them.  
  
"The movie's been over for fifteen minutes already," she said, her voice thick with humor. "We've managed to clean around you guys, but I'll need to get down this aisle."  
  
The usher's eyes shifted down, and she bit her lip.  
  
"I think I'll give you another minute to, uh, cool down." She chuckled heartily as she walked off down the stairs, motioning to the other ushers to continue cleaning the lower level. Blaine and Kurt looked at each other, both with glowing red cheeks, and laughed.  
  
"Uh, maybe if you hold you coat..." Blaine started.  
  
"Yeah," Kurt said, looking down at his own erection, and then at Blaine's straining against the zipper of his pants. "You, too."  
  
They both took off their coats, folded them neatly and draped them over their arms. Arms linked, they tried to look inconspicuous as they walked out of the theater.

* * *

  
  
Blaine shifted nervously against the binds on his wrists and ankles. He was excited when Kurt had decided to use silk stockings to tie him to the bed. It sounded so sexy. In reality, everytime he pulled they became tighter and tighter, and didn't give in any way. So there he lay with silk biting into his already broken and raw skin.  
  
Blaine still wore the satin panties, and feeling them slide against his erection, which never went away after leaving the theater, made Blaine squirm against the sheets. If Kurt didn't emerge soon and put Blaine out his misery, he might start crying.  
  
Once the bathroom door opened and Kurt appeared, Blaine realized all the discomfort was well worth it.  
  
Blaine had realized for a long time that even though he could classify himself as bi-sexual, he was really mostly attracted to men. Women are very kind and sensitive, and their bodies are beautiful, but there was just something about men. As far as men were concerned, Kurt was the ultimate - exquisitely sculpted, absolutely unique, but underneath the corsets and the catsuits he was very much a man.  
  
But this...this was different. This was Kurt as a seductive, sensual creature that breeched the barriers of what was male or female.  
  
He was the most striking and exotic person Blaine had ever seen.  
  
Kurt stepped out in a beautiful piece of black silk lingerie - a baby doll that hugged his chest and flaired out at the bottom just below the curve of his ass. Blaine could tell that Kurt wore some sort of garter underneath. He could see elastic straps reaching down over Kurt's thighs, attached to lace top stockings. He wore fingerless gloves that traveled up the length of his forearms, stopping at his elbows. Gone were Kurt's luscious chestnut locks in favor of an almost electric blue bob cut wig. His face was a shade paler than usual, thanks to his carefully applied make-up. He had heavily shadowed his eyes in black with silver eyeliner, and his lips were a sinful shade of red.  
  
Kurt approached the bed, eying Blaine's body, lingering on the satin panties with a devilish grin. Kurt crossed each foot in front of the other as he walked, the ruffle at the hem of the baby doll swaying from side to side as he sashayed, his hips moving smoothly.  
  
"So," Kurt said, performing a little twirl. "What do you think?  
  
Blaine blew out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.  
  
"I th-think," Blaine stuttered, "thank God for weird clients."  
  
Kurt giggled. He ran a hand over the tie on Blaine's ankle, tugging it gently to make sure it was secure. He bent over, staring up at Blaine through strands of blue hair, and licked Blaine's ankle. Blaine moaned loudly, and Kurt watched Blaine's cock twitch beneath the blue satin. Kurt's tongue slid up the length of Blaine's leg, stopping at his knee to dip and lick behind. Blaine pulled tight at the stockings as his hips bucked involuntarily upward.  
  
"Nnnngh," Blaine groaned, feeling the stockings as they constricted around his wrists. "God," he breathed, as he felt Kurt's mouth linger over the ties to the panties. Kurt licked slowly around the laces, drawing circles and painting random shapes over Blaine's prickling skin. He felt Kurt tug at one of the laces, felt the bow unravel against his hipbone, and then the slight tickling sensation as the undone laces slid down his skin.  
  
Kurt bent across Blaine's body, moving leisurely, allowing the soft fabric of his baby doll to drag lightly across Blaine's skin. Kurt stopped to nudge down the top of the panties, planting delicate kitten licks over the smooth head of Blaine's cock, before moving to the other set of ties. Blaine's eyes stayed glued to Kurt's form, his muscular legs, his long body, but mostly Kurt's perfect ass. Blaine remembered the feeling of that ass against his hand, the smooth pale skin, and Kurt's intense heat.  
  
Kurt let the satin material of the panties slide over Blaine and fall between his legs.  
  
Kurt straddled Blaine's chest. Sitting closer, Blaine could see that Kurt wore an identical pair of panties in black.  
  
Blaine moaned at the sight, at the feel of satin against his skin.  
  
Blaine licked his lips.  
  
"Kiss me," Blaine squeaked out.  
  
Kurt raised an amused eyebrow in response.  
  
"Is that a command?"  
  
"It's a request." Blaine didn't know why, but he had started to shake.  
  
"You know, I think I have given you way too much power," Kurt said, as he leaned over and captured Blaine's lips. Kurt kissed him softly, sweetly.  
  
"You told me that subs have all the power," Blaine said against Kurt's lips..  
  
Kurt's heart sank just a little. He leaned his head against Blaine's shoulder, breathing in the clean scent of Blaine's soap and aftershave.  
  
Kurt couldn't identify what exactly was going on here. For the most part, Kurt had complete control, but he realized he didn't want it. Not all of it at least. He wanted a moment that was more about give and take.  
  
"I'm not sure that's all you are anymore," Kurt whisepered softly, hoping that Blaine didn't hear.  
  
Blaine did hear.  
  
"Could you look at me?" Blaine asked. Kurt didn't move. Kurt was afraid to look into Blaine's eyes - afraid of what he might see there. Blaine might want to set the record straight, that what he and Kurt had was just a business transaction, and that all the kisses, all the confessions, all the longing looks were just a distraction to keep him from thinking about a world he didn't want to go back to.  
  
"Please, look at me, Kurt."  
  
Kurt took a deep breath to steady himself. He raised himself up and looked at Blaine.  
  
"Would you do something for me if I asked you?"  
  
"I don't think I could deny you anything." Kurt said with a small chuckle.  
  
"Would you..." Blaine knew what he wanted, he just didn't know how to ask for it. Have sex with him? That sounded a little too impersonal. That would make Kurt sound like a whore. Make love to him? No, not like this. Not with Blaine tied up. Blaine could only think of one thing to say, and Blaine prayed that Kurt would not say no.  
  
"Kurt, would you...would you take me?"  
  
Kurt's eyes widened with surprise, and a slight look that Blaine thought might be hurt.  
  
"I don't care how...torture me while you do, if that's what you want. I just want...I want you to make me yours. Please..." Blaine let out a breath as he laid all his cards on the table. "I don't know what's going to happen to us, but all I know is that something between us is changing..."  
  
Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, looking for some kind of confirmation, but Kurt had a better poker face than Blaine expected.  
  
"Please tell me if I'm wrong."  
  
Kurt swallowed, and nodded.  
  
"Yes," he admitted. "It is changing."  
  
"Kurt...I don't want to leave here without having you...at least once."  
  
Kurt swallowed hard, his eyes steely, almost calculating. Blaine felt sure he had crossed a line, sure that Kurt would say no.  
  
Kurt sat up straight, then slowly climbed off Blaine. Blaine sighed, deflating, feeling defeated. He expected to feel the tension on his ankles release any moment as Kurt untied him. He heard Kurt rustle around in his bag, and when he returned it was with a small bottle and a foil packet in his hand.  
  
Blaine almost laughed with relief.  
  
"I thought you don't sleep with clients?" Blaine asked with a cheeky grin.  
  
"Well, I thought I would be prepared in case I made an exception." Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
Kurt opened the foil wrapper and rolled the condom swiftly over Blaine's never-faltering hard on. Kurt warmed the lube in his hands before spreading it liberally over Blaine. When Kurt was satisfied, he lifted the hem of his baby doll at the hips, pulling at the laces of his own black satin panties and letting them drift to the floor.  
  
Kurt climbed carefully over Blaine's body, kneeling high to position himself over Blaine's cock. Kurt grabbed Blaine gently, hearing the breath hitch in Blaine's body as his eyes, which had shifted again to molten gold, watching Kurt's every move.  
  
"You're going to have to be patient," Kurt said, his voice changing slightly in a rare moment of vulnerability, "I haven't done this in a while."  
  
"Don't you want me to stretch you?" Blaine asked breathlessly, eyes wide.  
  
"I kind of like you the way you are." Kurt smiled bashfully. "Besides, you are going to stretch me."  
  
And then Kurt was on him, sinking down slowly. It was the most amazing thing Blaine had ever felt in his life. It was torture of the most incredible kind. Kurt moved slowly, ever so much slower than Blaine had ever entered into Sebastian - inch by incredible inch until Blaine wanted to cry out. Kurt looked so captivating, his eyes closed, deep in concetration, brow furrowed. Blaine could see tiny beads of sweat forming on Kurt's brow. When Kurt finally bottomed out, and Blaine had filled him completely, Kurt straightened up and sighed, a contented smile relaxing Kurt's features.  
  
Kurt kept a steady hand on Blaine's chest, a silent command to keep still while Kurt adjusted to the feeling of Blaine filling his body. Kurt was even more incredibly hot than Blaine remembered. He wanted to squirm, to move, to scream. The stockings twisted tight as Blaine rolled his wrists, fighting to stay completely still. When Kurt began to move he did it with exceptional control. Blaine threw his head from side to side, biting back a scream. Feeling the tight heat of Kurt's body around him was one thing, but the slow drag of Kurt sliding up and down, so deliberate in his movements, drove Blaine too close to the edge. Blaine tried to buck his hips up, to get the friction he longed so desperately for, but Kurt simply sat down on him, stilling Blaine's hips as he pinned Blaine to the mattress. Kurt wagged a long, thin finger at him.  
  
Kurt waited a moment, stilling the fire within Blaine, bringing him back to the start. Blaine took a deep breath, and shut his eyes. Kurt began to move again, splaying his hands across Blaine's chest for leverage. Blaine sighed. He had what he wanted. He had Kurt, but he wanted so much more.  
  
"Let me touch you," Blaine whispered, his eyes heavy lidded as he looked up at Kurt, pleading silently. "Please."  
  
Kurt stopped his relentless torment and looked down at Blaine, his heart fluttering erratically in his chest.  
  
Kurt didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he should relent. In essence, he'd already given his body to Blaine. This was just one more step. He wanted Blaine. He wanted Blaine to have him completely.  
  
Kurt leaned over carefully and pulled at the knot on Blaine's wrist, first the right then the left. When they were free, Blaine rubbed his wrists, trying to bring back the feeling that had disappeared from his arms. Blaine sighed. He put his hands on Kurt's hips and started to move Kurt up and down. Blaine kept his eyes locked on Kurt's, his hands crawling up Kurt's body. Blaine ran his fingers through the strands of Kurt's blue wig, but they felt dead...fake. He missed the silky feel of Kurt's hair.  
  
"Kurt, please," Blaine said around a broken moan. "Please, take this off."  
  
Kurt tilted his head, looking into Blaine's face. He raised his hands to his hairline and pulled out the pins. Then he slid the wig off his head and dropped it to the floor. Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's hair. He grabbed gently at the strands and tugged, hearing Kurt gasp. Blaine looked Kurt over, his eyes shitfting as he made a decision. Blaine reached toward the bedside table. Kurt continued to watch him with interest. Kurt could see Blaine's fingers inches away from a small packet of wet wipes. Blaine fumbled, trying to keep his eyes locked on Kurt's and reach the moist tissue. Kurt ran his fingertips down Blaine's arm as he reached past his hand. Kurt took one and held it out to Blaine. Blaine motioned for Kurt to lean forward. Blaine gasped softly as the movement caused Kurt to slide almost completely off of Blaine's cock, and the drag and squeeze almost sent him over the edge...but not yet. Blaine would not let this end so quickly. Not until he could see his beautiful angel without his makeup.  
  
Blaine wanted Kurt now more than ever. He didn't want the gorgeous sex siren who whipped him mercilessly and made him cum at the snap of a riding crop. Not this time. Blaine wanted the beautiful man that he had just sat next to at the movies and shared his popcorn with, who laughed at Blaine's pitiful jokes, who drank tequila with his teeth but told Blaine he ordered his Shirley Temples with extra EXTRA cherries, who hummed along with the radio, who was obsessed with Alexander McQueen...the one Blaine had only known for less than a month but whom he felt he had known his entire life.  
  
The one Blaine felt he was falling for incredibly fast.  
  
Kurt's eyes fluttered closed as Blaine wiped away the foundation and the red lipstick, and then carefully cleared away the black eyeshadow. When Blaine finished, he was looking into the face of his angel - the incredible man with the young, fresh face, so warm, so open, so lovely. Kurt sat up again, but he didn't move just yet. He knew what was coming. Blaine reached up to Kurt's elbows and one by one slowly stripped off the fingerless gloves. Then Blaine slowly detatched the clips from Kurt's stockings and began to roll them down his thighs. Kurt took over when Blaine's hands reached his knees and took the stockings the rest of the way down his legs. When Blaine reached for the hem of the babydoll, Kurt stopped him with a hand over his and a gentle shake of his head.  
  
"Not yet," Kurt whispered, and he began to move again. Blaine's eyes widened slightly at the feeling of Kurt slowly dragging over him, and he bit his lower lip.  
  
"Why not?" Blaine whispered. "Why won't you let me see all of you?"  
  
Kurt smiled, then he rolled his head back on his neck as he sped up his pace.  
  
"I have my reasons..." Kurt moaned.  
  
Kurt's tight heat swallowing Blaine's cock pushed Blaine to his limits, especially with Kurt's maddening pace. Blaine could have come a hundred times, but he wanted to wait for his angel.  
  
"Why...mmm...won't you tell me?" Blaine was grabbing at every inch of Kurt's skin he could reach.  
  
"You...uh...didn't ask...mmm...the right way..." Kurt sank one hand into Blaine's curls and wrapped the other around his own erection as he continued to ride Blaine into the mattress.  
  
"Nnngh," Blaine groaned, fighting against the hand tugging at his hair to watch Kurt's hand expertly moving over his cock. "T-tell me something about y-yourself...Oh, God, Kurt!...th-that I don't already know."  
  
"I..." Kurt started. He moved his hand from Blaine's hair, down his cheek, and over his chest.  
  
Kurt revelled in the feeling of Blaine's hands on his skin, running up his back, over his thighs, along his arms. Blaine used the ties on his ankles as leverage to lift himself up and touch Kurt all over, periodically switching angles inside Kurt, forming unexpected fireworks that shot through Kurt's body.  
  
It had been so long for Kurt. This was what he missed.  
  
Being connected to someone.  
  
He couldn't quite consider this making love to someone, but it was damn close.  
  
Blaine felt so good underneath him; it should have been a sin to fuck him like this.  
  
"I...I wear some of my secrets..." Kurt felt heat coil deep inside him, threatening to siphon away at his carefully practiced self control. "I'm not ready to tell them to you yet."  
  
The last word was almost a scream, but Kurt held it in, biting his lip and curling his fingers into Blaine's skin.  
  
Blaine felt Kurt's movements become stuttered, not as smooth. Kurt closed his eyes and bit his lip. He knew Kurt was close. He didn't want to lose Kurt to whatever fantasy he had suddenly abandoned himself to, whether Blaine was a part of it or not.  
  
"Look at me, Kurt," Blaine groaned.  
  
Kurt dropped his head, his arm stroking his cock visibly shaking.  
  
"I said open your eyes and look at me, Kurt! Please!"  
  
Kurt's eyes snapped open. Blaine felt strange at the look in those eyes, the fire, the lust, and maybe a little fear.  
  
Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips and pounded up into him. A few unforgiving strokes was all it took.  
  
Kurt didn't just cum hard. He exploded. He held Blaine's eyes fearlessly and knew he was cumming, too. Blaine's hips stilled, holding Kurt flush against him until he worked through his orgasm.  
  
Kurt and Blaine held the gaze they had locked when Blaine had begged Kurt to open his eyes. Neither knew what to do or say. Blaine wanted to grab Kurt and hold him to his chest. Kurt's face remained blank, his expression unreadable. It was Kurt's eyes that spoke to Blaine - Kurt's confusion, his fear, the depth of his feelings.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine needed to hear his angel's voice.  
  
Kurt climbed off of Blaine and quickly untied Blaine's ankles. Blaine scrambled quickly off the bed, ignoring his aching legs screaming at him as he stood and grabbed Kurt.  
  
"Kurt?"  
  
Falling to his knees, he wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist.  
  
"What's wrong?" Blaine asked. "Please, tell me what I did wrong? I'll do anything. Anything to fix it." Blaine's voice sounded panicked to his own ears.  
  
He felt Kurt's hand in his hair, running through his curls.  
  
"Nothing...I..." Kurt looked down at Blaine. Blaine stood, running his hands up and down Kurt's arms, rubbing firm hands over his shoulders. Kurt looked everywhere, all around the room, and then back at Blaine with a sad smile.  
  
"It's just...it's going to be awful...saying good bye to you."  
  
Blaine looked down at his hands holding Kurt's arm at the elbows, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin at the bend.  
  
"Tonight's not good bye," Blaine said with a smile, trying to catch Kurt's gaze. "I'm still here for another week."  
  
Kurt nodded. Blaine wasn't sure but he thought he saw a tear roll down Kurt's cheek.  
  
"I know...it's just..."  
  
"No." Blaine grabbed Kurt into his arms and held him tight. "No. I'm never saying good-bye to you."  
  
Kurt sniffled, shaking his head against Blaine's chest, but Blaine only held him harder, bringing his lips to Kurt's and kissing him urgently.  
  
"Listen to me." Blaine sounded desperate. "I will figure this out, Kurt. I promise, I will find us a way. Let's just not think about it for now. Okay?"  
  
Kurt nodded. He wished he could have faith, and believe that Blaine would find a way. Kurt knew that dreams and promises were for fools and children, and Kurt wasn't either, but he let himself get caught up in Blaine's fantasy. Kurt took a long, hot shower, taking care to clean off the rest of the make-up. Afterward, he put on his most seductive smile and treated Blaine to a long, luxurious bath. He filled the tub with hot water and his own lavender bubble bath. He settled Blaine into it.  
  
Kurt bathed Blaine. He poured warm water carefully through Blaine's hair, then washed it with his own jasmine scented shampoo. He took his time, massaging Blaine's scalp, not marring the quiet, serene moment with too much talk - no more fears, no more professions. Kurt communicated his feelings through touch - gentle strokes over Blaine's skin with the soft washcloth, tender kisses around his hairline, until Blaine was cleaned, rinsed, dried, and ushered back to the bedroom wrapped in a towel.  
  
Kurt went to bed with Blaine dressed only in a t-shirt, and quickly succumbed to Blaine's tenacious hands, roaming over his body, pads of his fingers running down Kurt's skin, Blaine's lips sucking on Kurt's nipples in the dark, a fist firmly grasping strands of his hair, another on his cock. Kurt couldn't help but whimper and squirm beneath Blaine's touch. He seemed to be everywhere over Kurt's body at once.  
  
Both men fought to stave off sleep, enjoying the feel of each other as long as possible, until they both yielded to it, wrapped up in each other's arms.  
  



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sex...and this is where things get a little angsty.

Kurt really didn't like to dream. For the longest time, after his mother passed away, he only dreamt of her. Most people would feel comforted by dreams of loved ones they had lost, but not Kurt. Dreams about his mom were just a constant reminder that she was gone. After Finn and Rachel died, they constantly haunted his dreams. Sometimes, he relived his favorite memories of high school Glee club, and woke up thinking they were still alive. Other nights he dreamt of their funeral. He was back sitting in that small church in Lima, holding Junior's and Barbra's hands. He watched over and over as their coffins were lowered into the ground knowing that, for a while at least, the world had become colder and lost some of its color.  
  
This dream, the one he was having right now, was different. In fact, it was amazing. Kurt could feel warmth all around him, surrounding him. He could hear the sounds of the waves crashing on the sand. He was probably on a beach. Sunlight kissed his skin, leaving a trail of heat along his jaw and neck. He felt the breeze move over his body, tracing patterns along his legs and arms. He had an overwhelming urge to touch himself; to run his fingers lightly over his chest and neck. He sucked a finger into his mouth and ran it over his nipple, delighting in the shiver of pleasure it sent racing down his body. It seemed to connect with another sensation of warmth over his cock, and danced playfully over his balls. He licked another finger and did it again, feeling the same thrill shoot over his body.  
  
He reached down with trembling fingers to find the source of the electricty crackling through him, but the something brushed against his thigh. Tendrils of silk tickled his skin, and he laughed lightly. He felt the laugh echo through him from the location of the silky tendrils, and the hum of it against his sensitive skin surged along every nerve.  
  
He wanted to talk to the source of this immense pleasure, give it a name. He wanted to open his eyes, try and see the thing that made him feel so incredible, but he was afraid that if he opened his eyes, he would abandon the dream, and be left with cold reality.  
  
"Kurt."  
  
He felt it more than heard it, moving through his body in waves.  
  
"That's right, Kurt. Why don't you open your eyes for me."  
  
Kurt became vaguely aware that he had started talking, or at least mumbling somewhat incoherently. The breeze on his body took hold of his hips. The crackle of electricity on his skin grew more intense. It pooled in his limbs, coiled in his stomach, set everything it touched on fire.  
  
He heard a strange voice on the breeze now, and it called out a name.  
  
Kurt felt so relaxed, so at peace. He could stay on this beach forever. But something deep inside pushed him to claw his way out of this paradise. It whispered promises to him, told him something better awaited him if he opened his eyes.  
  
Sensations became sharper. He tossed his head from side to side, trying to shed the darkness and climb towards the sun. The strange voice became louder, more defined, high and desperate, and full of want and need.  
  
He finally recognized the sound of his own voice, and it called out a single name.  
  
"Blaine!"  
  
Several things immediately came into focus.  
  
He was still lying in bed, waking up to the sound of the ocean outside the window. Streams of sunlight stretched out over him, bathing him in its warm morning glow, and the amazing sensation of electricity came from Blaine - his hands traveling over Kurt's skin, and his mouth massaging his cock.  
  
Kurt looked down to see Blaine's eyes gazing adoringly back up at him, those golden eyes smiling at the stunned, sleepy look on Kurt's face.  
  
Kurt reached down to touch Blaine's hair, pulling at the silky strands of Blaine's mass of curls. Blaine swirled his tongue around Kurt's shaft and sucked hard, pulling off Kurt with an obscene wet pop. Kurt arched his back and keened.  
  
"Good morning, gorgeous." Blaine smirked at the wrecked mess of a man before his eyes.  
  
"Don't stop!" Kurt pushed Blaine's head back down toward his cock. "Whatever that was, do it again, just...don't stop!"  
  
Blaine smiled, eager to return to his work, when Kurt realized that Blaine was too far away. Kurt got an idea. Before Blaine's tongue could touch Kurt again and he lost all ability for comprehensible speech, Kurt tugged on Blaine's hair, forcing him up.  
  
"No, no, no," Kurt murmured. "Too far. You're too far away. Get up here."  
  
Blaine tried to lay his body down over Kurt's, but Kurt was shaking his head again.  
  
"Nope. Not like that." Kurt lightly smacked Blaine's arm. "You're not done. Turn around."  
  
Blaine furrowed his brow, confused at the directions Kurt gave him, until he finally realized what Kurt wanted. Blaine turned his body completely around so he faced Kurt's feet and climbed on top of him. It took a moment of awkward maneuvering to get the positioning right. Blaine sank his mouth over Kurt's cock again, and Kurt sucked Blaine's cock into his own mouth.  
  
Kurt didn't want to admit to Blaine that he had never tried this before, but he had definitely fantasized about it tons of times. Kurt found it a little difficult to focus. Sometimes, the relentless movement of Blaine's tongue over Kurt's cock would paralyze him, and he would stop, allowing Blaine to fuck his mouth for awhile. Other times he would get caught up in the delicious noises he could force Blaine to make by increasing the suction of his mouth, or the angle of his tongue, and the sensation of Blaine mouthing over his erection would lessen.  
  
The new view of Blaine's body from this position was quite distracting. At this angle Kurt got an unobstructed view of Blaine's abs, tensing as they fought to keep himself hovering just above Kurt; Blaine's muscular legs, trembling slightly when Kurt sucked slowly from base to head.  
  
Kurt knew he was nearing his orgasm. Blaine had been working on Kurt much longer than Kurt had his mouth on Blaine. Kurt wanted them to cum together. He loved the connection of the two of them reaching climax at the same time. Kurt eyed the tiny bottle of lube sitting precariously at the edge of the bedside table, within reach of his fingertips. Kurt grabbed the lube and popped the top. He felt Blaine's legs tense a little at the sound of the bottle opening, but he trusted Kurt. Trusted that Kurt wouldn't hurt him, and that whatever he did, he would make Blaine feel incredible.  
  
Kurt warmed the lube in his hand, fumbling momentarily when Blaine sucked especially hard. Kurt had to concentrate not to just give in to the urge to cum now, choosing to wait instead for Blaine. Kurt trailed his finger along Blaine's crack, carefully searching out and finding his entrance. Kurt felt Blaine tense again, slowing his movements over Kurt's cock as he focused on the path of Kurt's finger. Kurt slowly circled the tense hole, and Blaine relaxed, moaning over Kurt's cock. That almost finished Kurt, feeling Blaine's wanton moan wash over his erection.  
  
Kurt massaged a little more until he felt Blaine's body opening up for him, then pushed slowly inside. Blaine stopped sucking on Kurt altogether, not out of resistance, but to revel for a moment in the welcome intrusion of Kurt's finger. Kurt felt how tight Blaine was, how unaccustomed he was to being touched this way.  
  
Kurt moved his finger slowly, dragging in and out of Blaine, paying attention to his body's cues.  
  
The extremely loud moaning that followed was a big cue.  
  
Blaine's reaction to Kurt fingering him was extremely unexpected. Kurt thought Blaine would be hesitant to have Kurt finger him, but the exact opposite turned out to be true. Blaine moaned like a whore as Kurt scissored him, adding a second finger to open him up, massaging deep inside. Blaine bucked back on Kurt's fingers when Kurt didn't move enough for him.  
  
The angling was a little difficult to get used to, but when Kurt found and hit that special spot deep inside Blaine, Blaine nearly came. Blaine's assault on Kurt's cock was relentless. Blaine sucked to mimic the movements of Kurt's fingers. Kurt squirmed, bucking his hips to meet Blaine's mouth and the exquisite attack of his tongue.  
  
Kurt ran his free hand up over Blaine's cheek and spanked him hard, feeling Blaine tighten around his fingers. Kurt imagined that tight heat around his cock just at the moment Blaine sucked and pulled off, and Kurt was done. Kurt's moan was muffled around Blaine's erection. Kurt spanked Blaine again hard, and Blaine succumbed to his own orgasm, cumming hard down Kurt's throat.  
  
Kurt sucked and swallowed around Blaine's cock until he could feel Blaine start to soften, then pulled away panting. Kurt removed his fingers carefully, hearing Blaine hiss and moan a little at the emptiness. Blaine rolled off Kurt ad smiled.  
  
"I want to wake up like that every morning." Blaine sighed, utterly sated. Kurt felt his heart crack just a fraction.  
  
"That would be nice." Kurt turned on his side away from Blaine, looking out the pation door toward the ocean. He felt Blaine crawl up behind him, kissing him on the neck gently.  
  
"That was definitely an excellent idea." Blaine sighed against Kurt's shoulder, rubbing a hand up and down the soft skin of Kurt's side.  
  
Kurt stayed quiet and still, staring out at the rising sun. Kurt didn't speak, too afraid that if he opened his mouth, about a million 'I love you's' would slip out.  
  
Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, concerned by his silence.  
  
"Do you want to go out and sit on the patio?" Blaine asked. "Watch the sun rise?"  
  
Kurt shook his head. He wrapped his arms over Blaine's.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine nuzzled against the nape of Kurt's neck. "Did I do something? Is there something wrong?"  
  
"No, sweetheart." Kurt sighed. "I'm just thinking."  
  
"What about?" Blaine wasn't sure that he really wanted to know.  
  
"Do you think...maybe, that we're falling into these feelings too fast?" Kurt hoped quietly that Blaine would say no.  
  
Blaine considered Kurt's question for a moment.  
  
"Maybe," Blaine answered honestly, "if we were different people, I'd say yes, but..."  
  
"But what?" Kurt turned his head to look back at Blaine.  
  
"I don't know," Blaine raised a hand to Kurt's mouth, running his thumb over Kurt's lip. "I don't feel like I'm getting to know you. I feel like...like I'm remembering you from something."  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm sorry," Blaine laughed. "That sounded like a line, didn't it."  
  
"A little." Kurt kissed the tip of Blaine's nose, watching Blaine scrunch his face in response. "But it was a good line."  
  
"Well, tell me how you feel...about us." Kurt turned and shifted to look at the man in his arms.  
  
"My rational brain tells me this is moving too fast," Kurt admitted, "and that maybe I've just been alone for so long, that I really want this to be something it's not going to be."  
  
"O-kay." Blaine sounded hurt. He put a hand on Kurt's chest. "What does your heart tell you?"  
  
Kurt sighed, looking down at Blaine's hand over his heart.  
  
"My heart tells me..." Kurt looked up into Blaine's eyes, "...that I've been looking for you forever."  
  
Blaine smiled, pulling Kurt closer to him. He captured Kurt's lips in a sweet, chaste kiss. When Blaine pulled away, he caught a glimpse of Kurt's eyes, shining slightly in the morning sunlight, before Kurt looked back down at Blaine's hand.  
  
"I have an idea," Blaine said. "Let's go to dinner tonight."  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine, furrowing his brow in confusion.  
  
"Pick a place. Anywhere you want. We'll sit and talk until we're sick of talking. Then we can come back here...and see how we feel...about us."  
  
Kurt's features smoothed as he considered Blaine's idea.  
  
"I guess that sounds fair."  
  
Kurt rolled back over to watch the sun light the water of the waves, curling and dissolving as they rushed to the shore.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kurt walked into his house and saw what looked like a bomb had gone off.  
  
"What happened?" Kurt swept his eyes around the cluttered living room, mouth agape.  
  
Dave rushed out in his suit, handing little Elphaba off to Kurt.  
  
"Mrs. Cooper stopped by this morning." Dave grimaced as he searched for his briefcase.  
  
Kurt stopped dead.  
  
"From C.P.S.?"  
  
"Yup." Dave overturned a pile of books on the kitchen table and cursed as they slid loudly to the floor. "Junior!" he bellowed. "Come clean up this mess."  
  
Kurt followed Dave numbly as Dave continued lifting up couch cushions in search of his briefcase.  
  
"I was having trouble getting Eva to sleep last night," Dave explained curtly. "She had a level fifty meltdown. I guess the neighbors called."  
  
Kurt wanted to scream. Why couldn't things just be easy?  
  
"But they know she's autistic." Kurt groaned. "Why do they keep calling Child Protective Services?"  
  
"You know why." Dave gave Kurt a pointed look.  
  
Kurt did know why. Ever since their neighbors had moved in six months ago, they had been vying for the plot of land Kurt and Dave's trailer sat on. Since Kurt and Dave had one of the oldest trailers in the park, it was just a matter of time before management demanded that they trade up to a newer model...which of course they couldn't afford. The neighbors seemed to know that. How, Kurt never knew. They also seemed to catch wind of what Kurt did for a living. They had since made it their mission to get Kurt and Dave kicked out of the park, and since it wasn't illegal to be a dominatrix, the neighbors were trying to get them forced out because of Eva. And if Kurt and Dave were declared unfit as a consequence, then so be it.  
  
"I really need to figure out something horrible to do to those rat bastards," Kurt mumbled. Dave stopped searching and sighed heavily.  
  
"Kurt, we really need you at home." Dave knew it wasn't fair, putting this on Kurt, but everything went so much smoother when Kurt was home. The girls listened to Kurt, better than they listened to Dave. Even though Eva didn't really bond with anyone, she at least settled down when Kurt told her to. Dave prayed that some day soon they would come across the key that unlocked that place in Eva's mind that neither of them seemed to be able to touch.  
  
"You know that when Eva really goes off the deep end, you're the only one who can calm her down."  
  
Kurt looked down at little Elphaba, busily involved with trying to stuff her fist into her mouth. Kurt sighed.  
  
"Look," Kurt relented, feeling guilty for the fabulous evening and morning he had just had. "Maybe I can talk to Blaine about altering our arrangement. "  
  
Dave sighed in relief. He turned around smiling till he caught a look at Kurt, eyes downcast, lost in thought. The man who had walked through the door and taken the giggling toddler from Dave's arms just moments ago looke young and vibrant and happy. This Kurt looked tired and resigned.  
  
"No, Kurt." Dave put strong hands on Kurt's shoulders, massaging gently. "Don't do that. You only have a week left to spend with him. I'll...I'll figure something out."  
  
Kurt didn't want to smile. He didn't want to seem happy that his family, his biggest responsibility, was struggling so that he could spend time with Blaine. It seemed sick somehow. Kurt could reason that he was getting paid, but it wasn't about that anymore.  
  
The thought of not seeing Blaine anymore...Kurt suddenly found it hard to breathe.  
  


* * *

  
  
Blaine took the opportunity to drive to Nordstrom's and pick out a new outfit for his dinner with Kurt. Staying low profile wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. Some sweats, a hoodie, and a beanie to cover his signature curls and he was basically invisible. He wished he could have gone shopping with Kurt. It would be nice to take Kurt shopping, to dress him up and spoil him. Kurt, of course, had tremendous fashion sense.  Blaine would love to see him at work.  
  
As Blaine cut through the kids' department to get to the shoes, his fantasy of spoiling Kurt took an unexpected turn. He imagined going shopping with the kids, too; thinking how fun it would be to outfit the girls in dresses with matching shoes. Blaine bought himself a medium drip and took a seat in the sun, abandoning himself to his daydream. He knew that wooing Kurt would mean wooing the kids...and Dave, too. The more he thought about it, the more exciting it actually seemed. He wanted to know what he would have to do to win them all over.  
  
If he asked Kurt, would Kurt tell him?  
  
  
Blaine checked his reflection in the mirror.  His iPhone buzzed on the bedside table. He rushed to it, hoping to see a picture of Kurt.  
  
Instead, he saw his agent, Thad.  
  
"Hey, Thad." Blaine answered the phone happily. "What's the good word?"  
  
Blaine heard a sigh from the other end of the call.  
  
"No good word, I'm afraid," Thad said. Thad was one of the few people to whom Blaine had divulged the nature of his vacation. "They want you back up here."  
  
Blaine's blood ran cold.  
  
"What do you mean they want me back up there?" Blaine was livid. He wasn't sure how, but he had a feeling this had something to do with Mia's visit.  
  
"They pulled the hiatus..." Thad paused, not wanting to continue, "...to discuss going on tour."  
  
"But they decided not to do the tour this year!" Blaine practically screamed.  
  
"Hey, now," Thad said defensively. "Don't shoot the messenger."  
  
Blaine sat down on the bed and sighed. He didn't have anything to say.  
  
"Hey," Thad said, breaking the silence. "I promise, I went to bat for you. I told them to talk to you about it in a week when you came back. I told them you haven't been on vacation in years, that you are completely devoted to the show."  
  
 _'Completely devoted to the show'..._ those words stung.  
  
"What did they say?" Blaine whispered.  
  
Thad sighed again.  
  
"They said that a hiatus isn't a vacation," Thad sympathized. "They can cut it at any time."  
  
Blaine didn't want to go back. He suddenly couldn't breathe.  
  
"When do they want me?"  
  
Thad didn't answer right away.  
  
When he did, he sounded contrite.  
  
"They've called for a table reading...at noon tomorrow."  
  



	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sex in this chapter.

Blaine couldn't bring himself to move from his seat at the end of the bed. He just wanted to sink back under the comforter and cry. Or scream. Or scream and cry at the same time. He wasn't even prepared to leave in a week, but tomorrow. It was too soon...too soon to be ripped from his Kurt.  
  
When Kurt showed up, all thoughts of L.A. and table readings and tours flew straight out the window. Kurt, in an all too delicious pair of indigo skinny jeans, knee high combat boots, and an amazingly tailored emerald green shirt stood at Blaine's threshold, bearing a single white rose.  
  
Blaine was speechless.  
  
"Oh, Kurt." Blaine took the rose delicately from Kurt's fingers. "It's beautiful."  
  
Kurt blushed, moving closer to take Blaine in his arms.  
  
"You're beautiful," Kurt whispered against Blaine's ear. "And I'm so happy I'm here."  
  
Blaine's heart lodged in his throat. Kurt held Blaine tight, feeling him tremble slightly in his arms.  
  
"Blaine?" Kurt looked around, for the first time noticing the dark room. "Are you alright? You're sitting in the dark. And you're shaking." Kurt rubbed soothing circles into Blaine's back, kissing him lightly on the forehead.  
  
"I'm just...so happy that you're here, too." Blaine took a deep breath, inhaling the soothing scent of vanilla that always settled like a mist around them when they were in each others' arms. Blaine held Kurt at arms length. "You look amazing. Where in the world did you get that shirt?"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes upward, biting his lip as he tried to hide a smile.  
  
"I...made it," he confessed. "Last year. Do you like it?"  
  
"I love it." Blaine held Kurt close, not wanting to let him go. Telling Kurt that he loved his shirt was the closest he could bring himself to saying 'I love you'.  
  
Blaine decided to put off the self-pity until the last possible moment, when he would have to tell Kurt he was leaving...and he would need to say good-bye.  
  
Kurt chose to go to The Chart House, so that they could eat with a view of the water. No sooner had the appetizers and drinks been ordered than the barrage of questions began.  
  
"What's your favorite color?"  
  
"How many siblings do you have?"  
  
"What was your favorite subject in school?"  
  
"What is your favorite _Vogue_ cover?"  
  
"Favorite musical?"  
  
"Favorite ice cream flavor?"  
  
"What t.v. show would you be on if you weren't on your own?"  
  
"Did you read Patti LuPone's new book?"  
  
"Of course I did, you psycho."  
  
On and on, until salads were moved aside, barely touched, and the entrees went cold. They stayed at their table until the dinner rush moved along and it was just the two of them, sitting on the same side of the table, arm in arm, watching the waves roll, some of the spray showering the glass as the tide moved in.  
  
"Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know." Blaine didn't want this dinner to end. He didn't want the night to end. If the silence stretched on too long, Kurt might be tempted to ask Blaine to leave and go back to the hotel, and Blaine wanted to live off of this moment for as long as he could.  
  
Kurt screwed up his face slightly, looking off into the water as it churned and frothed outside the large picture windows.  
  
"Okay, okay." Kurt sat up straight, crossing one leg over the other, biting his lip as he tried for as long as possible to delay answering the question.  
  
"I sing..." Kurt started.  
  
Blaine scoffed.  
  
"Well, I knew that," Blaine said. "You just won't sing for me."  
  
Kurt glared at him pointedly.  
  
"I _sing_ ," Kurt repeated, "in a community college choir."  
  
Blaine raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Oh my God, Kurt." Blaine smiled. "Well, tell me. When's your next concert? I need to come see you!"  
  
Kurt leaned back a little, appraising Blaine with amused eyes.  
  
"You would drive all the way down here, from L. A., to watch me perform with thirty other aging community college students?" Kurt shut his eyes and shook his head as if the idea was too ridiculous to imagine.  
  
"Of course I would," Blaine pouted. "I would do anything to hear you sing."  
  
The sincerity in Blaine's voice quieted Kurt's incredulous laughter. Kurt felt the intensity of Blaine's gaze on his skin and blushed.  
  
"It wouldn't matter anyway," Kurt continued. "The next event our choir has planned is our annual scholarship competition, and I'm not competing, so I'm not singing."  
  
"Scholarship competition?" Blaine leaned in and pulled Kurt closer to him, smiling as Kurt relaxed into his side. ' _It's that easy,'_ Blaine thought, nuzzling into Kurt's hair and inhaling his comforting scent of vanilla.  
  
"Mm-hmm," Kurt hummed. "Every year some of the students in the choir compete for a scholarship so that they can attend 'real college'," Kurt added air quotes for emphasis. "The amount varies every year, and is based on our ability to raise the funds ourselves, so it's very competitive. There was a brawl a few years ago with regard to illegitimate raffle tickets. It was quite scandalous."  
  
Blaine chuckled silently. Blaine kissed the top of Kurt's head, delighting as stray hairs tickled his nose. He kept breathing Kurt in, hoping that somehow he could take that scent home with him.  
  
Of course, the only way to do that, would be to take Kurt home with him.  
  
"Why don't you want me to hear you sing?" Blaine asked quietly.  
  
Kurt sighed.  
  
"Because this..." Kurt gestured to all of him, "is just a disguise I wear. It keeps me sane, and strong. In a way, it keeps people at bay. But when I sing, that's when people get to see the real me..."  
  
Blaine imagined the real Kurt must be a sight to behold.  
  
"If you did that," Kurt said, "if you saw the real me, then you'd know everything about me...and you wouldn't have a reason to come back."  
  
Blaine could hear Kurt's voice tremble, clouded with tears he was fighting to keep away. Blaine held him tighter, refusing to let go, even when the waiter brought the check.  
  
The whole drive back to the hotel, Blaine kept glancing at the dashboard clock, watching as the minutes ticked away. He felt like he wasn't driving them to their quiet little bungalow retreat, but to an ominous black hole that was going to suck away their time and leave them with nothing. He thought that if they could just keep moving, keep doing other things, then he could somehow make time slow down, and he could keep Kurt longer. He suggested dancing, karaoke, or even another late night movie make-out session, but Kurt seemed eager to go back to the hotel. Since Blaine found it hard to say no to Kurt, he relented.  
  
When he got Kurt back to the hotel, Blaine grabbed him up in his arms, swaying a bit as if they were dancing. Kurt smiled and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder.  
  
"Hmmm," Kurt purred. "I like this. We should always find time for dancing."  
  
Blaine sniffled a bit. He didn't realize he was humming. He didn't know when he had started singing, quietly, almost to himself.  
  
 _"You think I'm pretty, without any makeup on..._  
 _You think I'm funny, when I get the punchline wrong..._  
 _I know you get me, so I let my walls come down...come down..."_  
  
Kurt looked down into Blaine's face with a wistful smile.  
  
"Are you trying to tell me something, Anderson?" Kurt said with an affectionate giggle.  
  
Blaine wrapped his arm more securely around Kurt's waist, holding Kurt's hand in his and resting his head on Kurt's shoulder.  
  
 _"Before you met me, I was alright..._  
 _But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life..._  
 _Now every February, you'll be my Valentine...Valentine..."_  
  
Kurt's smile fell slowly as he listened to the words. He knew the song well, but the way Blaine sang it sounded different, sounded strangely sad.  
  
 _"Let's go all the way tonight..._  
 _No regrets, just love..._  
 _We can dance until we die, you and I..._  
 _will be young forever..."_  
  
"Blaine?"  
  
A knot in Kurt's chest bloomed, crowding out everything but the rapid thrumming of his heart.  
  
 _"You make me feel like I'm livin' a_  
 _Teenage dream, the way you turn me on_  
 _I can't sleep_  
 _Let's run away and_  
 _Don't ever look back,_  
 _Don't ever look back..."_  
  
Kurt wanted to look into Blaine's eyes, find the answers to his questions, but Blaine held him so hard against him, they were almost one person as they swayed and move. Kurt's breath hitched in his throat, and he knew.  
  
Blaine was leaving.  
  
 _"My heart stops, when you look at me..._  
 _Just one touch,_  
 _Now baby I believe..._  
 _This is real,_  
 _So take a chance and_  
 _Don't ever look back,_  
 _Don't ever look back..."_  
  
"When did you find out?" Kurt asked, looking over Blaine's head to the wall ahead of him.  
  
"My agent called me this afternoon," Blaine replied softly.  
  
Kurt pulled away a bit to look into Blaine's honey colored eyes, so much sadder than Kurt had ever seen.  
  
"Wh-why didn't you tell me? Over dinner?" Kurt sniffled now.  
  
"Because, I didn't want to ruin the evening."  
  
Kurt nodded.  
  
Kurt led Blaine to the bed, and sat him down. Kurt linked their hands looking down at their laced fingers. Blaine watched as Kurt rubbed a thumb over his knuckles, one at a time, feeling over the ridges and bumps on the back of Blaine's hand.  
  
"I know I don't have the right to ask anything of you," Blaine said, "but..."  
  
"Just ask me, Blaine." Kurt's solemn voice broke Blaine's heart.  
  
Blaine swallowed, fighting to catch Kurt's gaze, but Kurt wouldn't look up into Blaine's eyes.  
  
"Be with me, Kurt." Blaine pulled Kurt's hands to his mouth and kissed them. "Completely. Make love to me. Let me see you. All of you."  
  
A tear rolled down Kurt's cheek, curling down his skin to rest on his chin. Another joined it quietly. And then another.  
  
"I'm still not going to sing for you," Kurt said with a tiny nod.  
  
Blaine pulled Kurt to his feet and held him.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower," Blaine said, squeezing Kurt in his arms. "Would you join me?"  
  
Kurt nodded again.  
  
Blaine undressed slowly, watching Kurt carefully as Kurt stood stoically, staring at the floor. Kurt didn't make a move to remove his own clothes, just looked down at his boots. Blaine was a little confused.  
  
"I'm just...going to get the shower started." Blaine took a last long look at Kurt, and then went into the bathroom. He turned the water on hot, and stepped inside.  
  
He waited.  
  
He thought for a moment that Kurt had changed his mind, and began to wash his hair. He heard the door open. A pale hand pushed the shower curtain aside, and he saw Kurt - beautiful, muscular, amazing, gorgeous Kurt, completely naked and waiting for Blaine to invite him in. Blaine took a moment to appreciate the view of Kurt's unblemished skin. He must have been staring, because Kurt suddenly blushed, a rosy hue that started at his neck and climbed swiftly up his cheeks.  
  
"Come in," Blaine breathed, holding the curtain aside. "Come in."  
  
Kurt stepped delicately over the edge of the tub, and there he was, standing with Blaine beneath the spray. Blaine almost didn't know what to do next. He felt like he was seeing a naked man for the first time. Sebastian, with his numerous hours spent in the gym and his obsession with tanning beds and manscaping, was nowhere near as spectacular as Kurt, without his makeup and his outlandish outfits, or even his carefully tailored clothes. Just Kurt. Beautiful Kurt.  
  
"Could I...can I wash your back?" Blaine stammered as he fumbled with the wash cloth and the shower gel. Kurt looked at Blaine oddly, considering the question a little more than Blaine deemed necessary. In fact, it looked as though Kurt might actually say no. Then Kurt sighed, and turned slowly around, and there it was. Kurt's carefully kept secret. The one that he wore on his skin.  
  
It was a tattoo. Not just a tattoo. It was a glorious piece of artwork; a flock of blackbirds, flying into the distance, all springing from a single word - courage. It covered most of his back, in all the places that the tanks he wore covered completely. The whole thing looked like it had been done in the style of a watercolor painting. It looked bright and colorful - and painful. Blaine inspected it carefully, reaching out to touch it reverently with gentle fingers. The first touch made Kurt shudder. Blaine looked it over and over, following the flowing line of the script with his fingertips, coming up close to look at the detail. That's when Blaine realized that the tattoo wasn't the secret. The real secret was what the tattoo was covering. In rare areas where the skin had not been inked, Blaine could make out old, faded bruises that hadn't entirely healed.  
  
"Oh, Kurt," Blaine gasped, running his fingers along the bruises. Once he saw them, he couldn't stop seeing them. They were everywhere - between the birds, underneath the letters, woven in the colors and the forms.  
  
"What...who..."  
  
"Do me a favor?" Kurt asked, turning his head to look over his shoulder. "Ask me another time?"  
  
Blaine nodded numbly, bringing the wash cloth up and scrubbing Kurt's skin carefully, as if putting too much pressure on it would wash away the beautiful image. Blaine washed Kurt's hair next, massaging Kurt's scalp with firm fingers, the way Kurt had done for him. After Blaine had finished washing Kurt, Kurt took the wash cloth and did the same for Blaine.  
  
Kurt held him and kissed him, lapping tenderly at Blaine's lips and inside his mouth, humming against the movement of Blaine's lips on his. Kurt could feel Blaine's arousal against his leg, and wrapped a deft hand around his length. Blaine reached out to still Kurt's hand.  
  
"No," Blaine said apologetically. "Not like that. Would you..."  
  
Kurt dropped slowly to his knees, his eyes locked on Blaine's, which were melting to that alluring molten gold color that had started to haunt Kurt's dreams. Blaine swallowed as he watched Kurt take him into his mouth, his wet heat surrounding him, fitting over him tightly as Kurt wasted no time sucking hard, slowly working up and down Blaine's shaft, holding Blaine's gaze. Blaine's broken breaths and moans echoed off the tile walls of the bathroom.  
  
Blaine watched Kurt's eyes go from a soft blue to a hard, stormy grey as he continued the tortuous slow pull over Blaine's cock. Blaine could cum - fuck into Kurt's mouth and cum down his throat. He knew Kurt would let him. Blaine wanted something more.  
  
Blaine threw his head back, staring up at the white ceiling, watching the steam rise in soft, translucent clouds around him.  
  
"Kurt, I don't want to cum yet," Blaine said unconvincingly. Kurt giggled around Blaine's erection. Blaine felt the sensation vibrate through his blood.  
  
Blaine grabbed at the slippery walls with his fingertips.  
  
"Kurt, I want you inside me."  
  
Kurt's ministrations stopped. He stood and looked into Blaine's wrecked face. Kurt looked shocked to say the least. He quickly turned off the water and grabbed Blaine's hand. Kurt pulled Blaine from the shower, not even bothering to dry off, locked their lips together, and dragged Blaine to the bed.  
  
Kurt lay his body out over Blaine's, kissing him aggressively, his tongue entering Blaine's mouth, competing for dominance.  
  
It wasn't much of a battle. Blaine wanted to be dominated. He wanted to be taken. He loved Kurt so much, it hurt. Every muscle in his body ached from falling so fast for this exquisitely tortured blue-eyed man. The feeling was so immense, he didn't want to express it with something as common as words.  
  
He would give Kurt his heart and his body instead.  
  
When Kurt heard the words from Blaine's mouth, Kurt pounced on Blaine. He wanted this. He wanted it so bad that his hands itched every time he touched this gorgeous man. The dominatrix inside him took over, and he rushed Blaine to the bed. Blaine lay himself out under Kurt like an offering. Kurt felt Blaine's body submit, felt Blaine give himself to Kurt, and a fire inside Kurt's stomach ignited, spreading wild throughout his veins. Kurt tasted Blaine and knew that he could have him, that Blaine wanted Kurt to have him.  
  
Blaine's eyes were Kurt's undoing. Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes and knew he couldn't just take him. Blaine had asked Kurt to make love to him, a concept that had become foreign to Kurt a long time ago. At heart, though, Kurt was a hopeless romantic, hidden by layers that included riding crops, high heels, and vinyl catsuits.  
  
Kurt wanted to make Blaine's experience wonderful...special...so much more than Kurt's had been. Kurt surprised himself by realizing he didn't just want to take Blaine, he wanted to make love to Blaine, too.  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He took a moment to memorize Blaine's face - his swollen lips, his golden eyes, the slight swoop of his nose from the eyebrows to the bridge, the slight stubble dusting his cheeks and chin. Kurt wanted to remember it all.  
  
Kurt kissed Blaine again, sweetly, feeling Blaine's soft lips press gently against his, Blaine's tongue sweeping against Kurt's, asking timidly for entrance. Kurt wrapped his arms protectively around Blaine, holding him securely, gently in his arms. Kurt lay carefully beside Blaine, rolling him slightly toward him. He wrapped them up in the comforter on the bed, and took all of the time he could possibly spend simply touching Blaine - massaging his shoulders, running the pads of his fingers lightly over the defined muscles of Blaine's arms and down his back. Kurt's hands traveled over Blaine's chest, stopping to circle each nipple before trailing down his abs, then around his hipbones, settling on Blaine's ass.  
  
Blaine moaned into Kurt's kisses with every touch of his fingertips. Kurt found the previously discarded bottle of lube on the beside table and liberally coated his fingers. He delicately searched out and found Blaine's entrance, rubbing small circles around the tight ring of muscle, and then pressing smoothly inside.  
  
Blaine pushed back on Kurt's finger, hissing at the burn as Kurt's finger stretched him. Kurt put an arm around him, stilling Blaine's hips.  
  
"No, sweetheart," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips. "Don't rush this. We have time."  
  
It sounded so simple, but time seemed to be the one thing Blaine was steadily running out of. Time with Kurt.  
  
"Hold onto me?" Kurt requested. "Wrap your arms and legs around me so I can feel you shiver."  
  
Blaine held Kurt tight as Kurt maneuvered between Blaine's legs, letting Blaine enfold him in his embrace. Kurt carefully added a second finger to the first, moving them slowly, stretching Blaine around them.  
  
Blaine writhed with each push and pull of Kurt's skillful fingers, rutting up against Kurt's body and slotting their cocks together. Kurt felt Blaine tremble beneath his touch and moaned. Blaine's hands were everywhere - running up and down Kurt's back, threading through Kurt's hair, reaching for his cock. Blaine's hand found both their erections. He wrapped his fingers around them and began to pump slowly. Kurt arched his back at Blaine's touch, aching for more of him.  
  
"Turn around for me," Kurt whispered against Blaine's neck as he leaned forward to suck a bruise onto Blaine's skin, marking him.  
  
Blaine disentangled himself reluctantly from Kurt and rolled on his side, facing away. Kurt rifled through the drawer of the bedside table and found a condom, tearing open the foil and rolling it over himself in record time. Kurt looked at Blaine, faced away from him, waiting patiently, fisting at the comforter in his anticipation. Kurt slid up behind him, pressing against his back, and felt Blaine sigh.  
  
"Are you ready for me?" Kurt asked, nibbling on Blaine's earlobe, gently teasing him with his tongue. Kurt ran the back of his hand lightly down the skin of Blaine's arm, watching as his skin blossomed with goosebumps.  
  
"Yes," Blaine whispered into the dark. "I want you...now, Kurt."  
  
Those words would never cease to take Kurt's breath away.  
  
Kurt ran his hands from Blaine's shoulders down his back, massaging along the line of his spine, down to Blaine's taut and gorgeous ass. Kurt spread Blaine slowly, latching on to the juncture of Blaine's neck and shoulder and sucking lightly, licking over the area with his tongue as he lined himself up with Blaine's tight hole. Kurt felt no tension, no apprehension in Blaine's body as he slowly started to push in. He wrapped his arms over Blaine's, winding them around his waist as he filled Blaine's body, inch by inch, with his own length.  
  
Kurt felt Blaine stretch around him, his tight heat swallowing him. The squeeze around his cock was so intense, Kurt wanted to cry out. He bit his lip to keep from slamming himself in to the hilt, wanting so badly to take care of Blaine, to never hurt him. Once Kurt had entered him completely, and he felt Blaine breathe out a long, relaxed sigh, Kurt held Blaine tight against his chest, reveling in the feeling of heat radiating from this single point of contact. Kurt buried his head in Blaine's shoulder, kissing and biting across his skin as he waited.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine panted. "Are you going to move?"  
  
"No," Kurt said, his response muffled as he kissed Blaine repeatedly.  
  
"Um...why not?"  
  
"Because..." Kurt's voice hoarse from straining to stay still. "I want to hold on to this moment forever."  
  
Blaine raised his arms to loop around Kurt's neck.  
  
"Okay." Blaine ran his fingers through Kurt's hair, enjoying being close to him, being filled by him, shutting his eyes and bringing up the image of the man behind him, pale and perfect.  
  
Kurt stayed still, breathing Blaine, remembering the feeling of skin against skin for as long as he could bear. Then he slowly began to move, opting to abandon one moment of perfection for a different one.  
  
With the first stroke inside Blaine, the mumbling started.  
  
"OhmyGod, Kurt..."  
  
Frantic and lustful words started to spill from Blaine's lips, adding momentum to Kurt's controlled movements.  
  
"Yes, Kurt...my God Kurt...oh you feel so good, Kurt...touch me, Kurt...harder...faster..."  
  
Until finally - "Yes, Kurt! There! OhmyGod, there! Please, Kurt! That feels amazing! Don't stop...whatever you do, don't stop!"  
  
Kurt was a blur of movement as he obediently complied. Kurt couldn't resist the allure of that sexy voice that became more breathy and wanton with every stroke of Kurt's cock inside him. Faster and faster Kurt moved, trying his best to pump Blaine's erection in time with his movements.  
  
Kurt's smooth and furious pace of pounding behind Blaine contrasted so sweetly with the erratic and slow pumping of his cock, that Blaine writhed with the sublime torture of it. He didn't know what to do, where to put his hands, what there was left to say. Every nerve in his body fired at once, every inch of his skin tingled, every hair on his body stood on end. The fingers tangled in Kurt's hair tightened. He wanted to stretch out like a cat and curl up into a ball all at the same time. Nothing he might have wanted mattered because he no longer had any control of his muscles. This amazing man had completely disarmed him, undone him, dissolved him. For the short time he knew him, Blaine belonged more to Kurt now in this moment than he had in the numerous times he wished he could say 'I love you'.  
  
Kurt had lost his capacity for speech. He knew Blaine was about to cum. He could feel Blaine's heat closing in around him, squeezing him, begging for his release, and Kurt wanted nothing more in the world than to give it to him. Kurt could feel his own body surrendering, heat exploding through his limbs as he tried to maintain his pace.  
  
"Cum for me, sweetheart," he whispered into Blaine's hair. "Cum for me. I can feel you. Your body wants to. Just let go."  
  
Kurt's angelic voice in his ear broke the last barrier of his wavering control, and Blaine came, spilling over Kurt's hand, his body nearly breaking in two as his muscles tightened, arching his back for him. He moaned and he bucked, all restraint gone. He felt Kurt cum, felt the arm around him tighten, felt Kurt sink his teeth into his shoulder, heard Kurt moan his name.  
  
A buzz of electricity settled in the air; a hum composed mostly of the fervor of their breathing along with some scattered gasps and moans.  
  
Suddenly, Blaine froze in Kurt's arms.  
  
Kurt, slightly disembodied, couldn't understand. A part of Kurt could hear, but couldn't make out the words - a part of Kurt knew, and was shattering from the inside out.  
  
Kurt heard the crying, but he didn't know that the tears were his.  
  
He heard the words, but he didn't realize it was his mouth speaking, until Blaine turned in Kurt's embrace and said almost too quietly, "Kurt...I love you, too."  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for oral sex and biting.

Blaine and Kurt lay in shocked silence, staring at each other.

Blaine's face had the hopeful, ecstatic glow of a kid at Christmas.

Kurt's eyes were wide like saucers. He looked like he was about to be hit by a bus.

Kurt hadn't said anything in close to ten minutes, and Blaine was pretty sure he hadn't blinked or breathed either. He was beginning to worry.

 _'Don't say it,'_  Blaine thought.  _'Don't ask him. He looks terrified. He might think it was a mistake. He might take it back.'_

But Blaine had to know for sure. He couldn't leave, holding on with both hands to a post-coital confession he only partially heard. "You love me?"

Kurt heard Blaine’s question, his plea for verification, and his mind could come up with only one answer.

_‘Say, no, Kurt.’_

Kurt's mind buzzed like a hive of infuriated wasps gathering to save their queen...a queen who had dropped all of his defenses and just confessed his deepest secret.

_'Say no, Kurt.'_

Yes, it would shatter Blaine completely, but really, it was for the best.

_'Say no, Kurt.'_

This was the definition of hopeless. They had no future. If Shakespeare were alive, he'd be writing tragic plays about them.

_'Say no, Kurt.'_

Blaine - gorgeous, open, honest, adorable Blaine. Blaine, who had treated him like an ass when they first met, and then tracked him down to a seedy hotel to apologize. Blaine, who let Kurt dominate him, hurt him, and, in some ways, humiliate him, and always came back for more.

Blaine, who was looking at him now like just a few simple words from his lips would open the gates to heaven on Earth.

Kurt couldn't deny Blaine anything. He definitely wasn't going to deny Blaine the truth.

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt said, finally moving, speaking, and coming back to life. "Yes, Blaine. I love you. I do. With everything I have, I love you."

That was all that needed to be said. Kurt was back in Blaine's arms, and Blaine, too overwhelmed to think of anything else to say, began to cry. His arms and chest shook as he held on to Kurt, as if a single finger out of place would cause Kurt to dissolve into the ether.

"This...this is wonderful," Blaine stammered.

Kurt suddenly got angry with himself. Who the fuck _was_ he right now? He should stay the course, be the person he always was - Kurt Hummel, Ice Queen. People hired him because he was stern and detached. He had worked so hard to convince himself that that persona was him, and that kept him safe. Now, he was in danger of losing everything.

"No." Kurt said, shaking his head. "No, it's horrible."

Blaine backed away, as if Kurt's words had burned him. "What are you talking about?"

"We have no future, Blaine." Kurt's stormy eyes brimmed with tears, which he hated. "There's nothing in the stars for us! Nothing! There is no way this is going to work out!"

"Kurt..." Blaine dared to touch him again, put his hands on his arms and steady him. "Maybe I'm being selfish, but this..." He pulled Kurt into his arms and held him. "This means everything to me."

Kurt let Blaine hold him, but he kept shaking his head from side to side.

"You should have never followed me to that hotel," Kurt lamented. "I should have never agreed to come here this week. Tomorrow you'll be gone, back to your old life, and I'll still be right here."

Blaine tried to soothe Kurt, whose tears would not stop. He massaged circles over his back, over that glorious tattoo that Blaine couldn't see, but whose presence he could feel in his fingers now that he knew it existed. He shushed Kurt, rocking him. As it often seemed when Blaine had Kurt in his arms, he started to babble.

"I need you, Kurt," Blaine whispered. "You have no idea how dreary my life was before you stepped into it, in your vintage McQueen suit." Blaine laughed a bit at the memory - not mockingly, but the kind of laugh that you can't help when you suddenly find the answer to a complicated riddle. "I don't think I was seeing the world properly until I met you. There was no color...no taste..."

Kurt's crying softened. He needed to hear what Blaine was trying to say.

"There's so much I could do with my life," Blaine continued. "But until a short time ago, when you walked into it, it just didn't seem to matter."

Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, exposing himself further to see if Blaine was telling the truth. If Kurt really was that important to him.

"I wouldn't change being with you this week for anything." Blaine's voice was firm, unfaltering. "And I'm not willing to let you go. I asked you to let me work this out. Please, promise me you can do that."

Kurt shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be setting himself up for this drastic of a fall. But somewhere in his heart, where he held on to a sliver of hope, not just for him and Blaine, but for something infinitely better as a whole, he gave himself permission to believe, and nodded slowly.

Relieved, Blaine rolled on to his back, pulling Kurt along with him. Kurt rested his head on Blaine's chest above his heart, so he could listen to it beat and remind himself that this incredible man was real.

They lay quietly, letting the symphony of the ocean waves outside lull them toward a needed, but troubled, sleep.

"Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know," Blaine asked, missing the sound of Kurt's voice already. He wanted to file it away so he could bring it out later, when he was back in L.A., and missing him too much to bear.

"I don't want to go to sleep," Kurt confessed.

"I already knew that," Blaine whispered with a sad smile.

"Tell me something about yourself I don't already know," Kurt returned, his eyes fluttering closed.

"I don't want to go home," Blaine answered with barely a thought.

Kurt chuckled. "I already knew that," he mimicked. Blaine felt Kurt's breathing even out, and ran an idle hand up and down his back. Blaine stared into the darkness, trying to record every last detail of this moment. Kurt, warm and sated, asleep against his chest, in a bedroom that, in another life, could be theirs. Their room. Their home. Their life together. In a lot of ways, it was too painful for Blaine to think about. The minutes ticked by, and Blaine finally joined Kurt in sleep.

In the early hours of the morning, before the sun lit the ocean waves, both men awoke with the exact same thought. Without much build up or prelude, a condom was produced, and Kurt settled in behind Blaine, moving steadily in and out, hands linked, fingers laced together, a litany of gasps and moans intertwined with the more than occasional _I love you_ filling the air. There was no ocean, no beach, no L. A., and for a few hours, no responsibility. Just the two of them, together, with no other goal than to feel each other for as long as they had.

Sooner than they wanted, the sun started to rise, and Blaine, who had been on the precipice of an orgasm for more than an hour, finally came in Kurt's embrace, with Kurt not too far behind.

They stayed in each other’s arms until the last possible moment, which was when the phone calls started. It began with a text reminding Blaine of the table reading that afternoon. Then, an unintentionally callous phone call from Dave asking when Kurt might get home. Both men retreated in silence to the shower, where Blaine washed Kurt's back, taking special care to clean each and every letter of his tattoo, reveling in the fact that this beautiful sight was something that only Blaine had been invited to see.

Kurt pampered Blaine. He washed Blaine's hair with his own shampoo and scrubbed his body down with his body wash, hoping, in a way, to mark Blaine with his signature scent. Blaine knew this, and while Kurt lavished attention on his skin, Blaine became hard again. Kurt got on his knees for Blaine, but this time he started out slow - long, languid licks from the base and gentle sucks over the head. He took Blaine's entire length down his throat, sucking hard to hear Blaine moan; licking around the shaft to feel Blaine tremble. Blaine shuddered and bucked, smiling into the steamy air around him. He talked incessantly, not holding back a single word since he was free to tell Kurt everything he felt.

But he primarily stuck with  _I love you._

Kurt could feel Blaine's legs quiver, heard his broken moans go silent, and knew Blaine couldn't hold on much longer. Kurt didn't want this to be over, but he gave in. He pulled Blaine in as far as he could take him, holding him against his mouth with his hands on Blaine's ass, and swallowed around him. Blaine's hands grabbed at Kurt's hair, tugging sharply, but Kurt held on for the ride. He could hear Blaine trying to moan his name and failing. Blaine came with a final choked gasp, spilling down Kurt's throat.

Blaine closed his eyes, and captured as much of the feeling of Kurt's mouth on him as he could, until he softened and Kurt stood to kiss him, giving Blaine a taste of himself on his lips. What started as a tender, gentle kiss, turned desperate, with Blaine's hand fisting Kurt's cock, and Kurt muttering rapid obscenities into Blaine's mouth. As bliss overtook Kurt’s body, and he came over Blaine's fist, his phone timer went off, and just like that, paradise was lost.

Blaine and Kurt dressed in silence. Both men gathered up their things, checking and double checking that they had everything they came with, both recognizing that they were leaving something irreplaceable behind. At one point or another, each of them snuck something in with the other's belongings. When Kurt stepped into the bathroom to collect his toiletries, Blaine slipped his bottle of Motley Atlas cologne in Kurt's bag. When Blaine made a trip outside to enjoy his last cup of coffee with a view of the ocean, Kurt smuggled away his leather riding crop into Blaine's.

Before Kurt slipped on his shirt, Blaine shyly asked for a photo of Kurt's tattoo. He knew in the days ahead he would need some courage, and he wanted to borrow a little bit of Kurt's, if Kurt didn't mind. With a shy smile of his own, Kurt agreed. Blaine took the photo, and made it his wallpaper.

Their cars packed, the two men stood between both vehicles in the parking lot, trying to find any excuse not to leave. Blaine took Kurt's hands in his, running his thumbs over Kurt's skin while he tried to think up something meaningful to say before goodbye.

"Look, I know I can't really ask you to make a commitment to me, not with things the way they are" - Blaine swallowed hard, pausing for a moment to see if Kurt would interrupt - "but, please believe me when I tell you, I have no intention of being with anyone else. No one."

Kurt's breath hitched in his throat, his instinct to object, but he stopped himself to let Blaine finish.

"And I might be selfish," Blaine continued, "but it would kill me to think of you here, dominating someone else..." Blaine sighed, frustrated that he couldn't be as suave and smooth in real life as he managed to be on that God-forsaken show. So Blaine did the only thing he could think of, not knowing whether it would insult Kurt or not. He pulled out his checkbook, and wrote Kurt another check. Kurt's eyes went wide.

"I don't need you to buy me," Kurt said, a little offended.

"No," Blaine rushed to explain. "No, it's not that. I just realized that I told you I can't make you a commitment, and yet here I am asking you to make one - one that impacts your whole family." Blaine finished signing the check, tore it out, and held it out to Kurt. "Please, give me a month. One month to sort this out, and after that, you can go back to work if you need to." Kurt made no move to take the check. Blaine sighed. "I'm...I'm not buying you. I'm buying time."

Kurt looked at the check in Blaine's hand, and then at Blaine's face. Blaine looked disgusted with himself, torn and tortured…and lost. Kurt couldn't stand seeing Blaine so pained.

He reached out shaking fingers and took the check.

Blaine's eyes brightened, his whole body relaxed.

"Okay," Kurt agreed, not even reading the amount when he folded the check and put it in his pocket.

The atmosphere had become too heavy between them, and there was no way it was getting any lighter. They were standing a foot or so apart, knowing that they should go, but it was farther than they had been from each other all week, and Kurt couldn’t take the distance anymore, nor the weight of the inevitable. He took Blaine in his arms and kissed him madly - on the lips, on the face, on the backs of both hands. With trembling lips and tears in his eyes, he grabbed Blaine by the shoulders and bit him on the neck, hard enough that Blaine thought Kurt might draw blood. Blaine moaned, holding Kurt tight, egging him on, wanting a bruise from this gorgeous man so deep it would take weeks to heal.

Kurt broke away with a whimper, his face wet. He pushed himself out of Blaine’s arms. There was no other way to make himself leave. He climbed into the front seat of his car, gunned the engine, and peeled away without looking back. When he pulled on to the freeway with the ocean behind him, he started to scream.

Blaine stood, watching Kurt's angry little Suzuki Esteem screech its way out of the parking lot and on to the highway. There he stood, his hand hovering over the mark on his neck, feeling the sting as he gently touched it with his fingers. He suddenly felt abandoned. Part of him didn't know what to do.

His text alert chirped, because luckily for Blaine, there were people falling all over themselves to remind him.

 _From: Mia_  
_See you in a couple of hours, gorgeous, and we can put this all behind us._

 _From: Blaine_  
_Fuck you!_

 _From: Mia_  
_As soon as you get back ;)_

Blaine opened his car door, threw his phone into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut. It was the closest he could get to slamming a door in her face. He felt his cheeks turn red, fury building up to fill the hole in his chest that had started to form when Kurt drove away. He curled his hands into tight fists and pounded the roof of his car over and over, and with each strike, he thought of the things that conspired against him.

He didn't like his life.

He didn't like its direction.

He didn't like what awaited him at home.

He closed his eyes, digging his palms into his eyelids, taking a moment to enjoy the black of his own mind and the sound of the ocean. Kurt had left. He’d have to leave, too. He tried to find a way to compel himself to go, tried to come up with three good reasons why he should. Even though he was failing to convince himself that he could do this, go back to his life without Kurt, and that things would get better in time, he realized he couldn't stay where he was any longer. He climbed into his car and looked at his phone. The message that had prompted his fit had dissolved into his wallpaper - the amazing tattoo on Kurt's back.

_Courage._

It's all he had of Kurt right now. It would have to do.

Kurt drove home five miles below the speed limit, not even flinching when other drivers leaned on their horns and passed him too close. He didn't care. Blaine was gone, and once again, the colors around him had gotten dimmer.

He got home, parked his car in the carport, and stepped out into the daylight. He could hear the uproar in the house from outside of the kids playing and yelling. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it was too much for him to handle, and he considered walking away - just around the block, or to the store…or to L. A. His heart had split in two. Part of it waited for him behind the door he stared at, inside the little metal house that had become his home, but another part was driving steadily away. He could feel a pull in both directions, but he couldn't tell which pull was stronger.

It didn’t matter. He only really had the one option.

Kurt stepped into the house and heard the mob head at him. The children were so happy to see him home earlier than expected. None of them knew, none of them could tell, but Dave could. One look in Kurt's eyes, and Dave saw his heart break.

Dave hated being right.

A tense moment settled in the air as the two men stared at one another.

Kurt walked straight for him. Dave wrapped Kurt in his arms and held him tight. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to fall apart, letting this familiar man hold him together. The kids became worried, started asking questions one on top of each other. Dave instructed them to wait in the living room. He told them that Kurt was tired and needed a moment to defrag. He led Kurt to the bedroom and shut the door behind them. He sat with Kurt on their bed while Kurt buried his head in the pillows and cried so violently, the whole bed shook. Dave curled up behind him and held him, letting Kurt's cries run through him and split him apart.

Kurt tried to tell Dave what happened, but he choked on the words, not wanting to say them out loud because then they would definitely be true. All Dave could make out clearly was _Blaine_ , _gone_ , and _love_.

Kurt cried until he fell asleep. Dave took off his shoes and his jacket, and tucked him beneath the covers. Then he left him in their bedroom, closing the door behind him so the kids wouldn’t run in and bother him. Dave took a second, stood beside the closed door and let out a deep breath. That's when he noticed the silence. Four silent kids, especially one with autism, is never a good sign. Dave went into the living room, steeling himself for whatever he might see when he got there – what had been broken or who might need a Band-Aid. What he didn't expect to see was all four children sitting quietly on the sofa. They looked at Dave in unison when he walked in to the room, except for Elphaba, squirming in Junior's lap as she tried to pull off her socks.

Junior spoke first. "The hobbit man broke his heart, huh," he said astutely.

"Yeah," Dave whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it looks like he did.”

"Cheesecake?" Barbra asked.

"Cheesecake," Dave agreed, motioning the kids toward the kitchen. He took Elphaba from Junior's lap and the three older kids headed to the cabinets to gather up supplies. "Actually, I think we'll make two," Dave decided. As the kids laid out the materials and Junior preheated the oven, Dave turned his face away and wiped a tear on his shoulder.

  
Blaine arrived to the table reading half an hour late. It didn't seem to matter. No one was getting any work done anyway. Blaine felt cheated. He saw Sebastian and Mia break out into twin grins at his arrival, and he wanted, more than anything, to bitch slap them both. The thought made him smile.

His black swan might be rubbing off on him a little.

Brad smiled condescendingly as he watched Blaine approach.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Blaine Anderson," he announced. "Nice to see you out of bed, as it were." Blaine wondered if everyone knew where he was this week...and what he had been doing. Nice to know his sex life was such an intriguing topic of conversation. Brad looked Blaine up and down, almost lecherously. "Swimming with the leeches in San Diego?" he commented, motioning with his chin towards Blaine's neck.

Mia barreled over to him to take a look at the bruise on his neck, but his wrists, exposed by his rolled up shirt sleeves, caught her attention.

"Oh my God!" Mia eyed the marks on Blaine's wrists with distaste. "What the hell happened to you in San Diego? Were you kidnapped?"

Sebastian watched Blaine bite his lip, a subtle blush creeping up his neck and flooding his cheeks.

"What did that freak do to you?" Sebastian whispered. Blaine turned his head and glared, but Sebastian's eyes smoldered.

"I'll never tell." Blaine smirked.

"You could _show_ me," Sebastian suggested, wrapping his fingers around Blaine's wrist. Blaine felt heat from Sebastian's breath on his neck. Months ago, having Sebastian so close, his eyes blown with lust, gaze flicking down to Blaine's lips, would have turned Blaine into a horny mess. He would have dragged Sebastian back to his trailer, bent him over the couch, and raked his nails down the man's back while he pounded into him mercilessly.

Now the suggestion in that silky voice made Blaine's blood curdle. The promise in Sebastian's eyes was empty – an invitation for another meaningless fuck - quick and hollow, making Blaine feel like more like a trophy than a lover.

Not like his beautiful angel.

Not like his fiery black swan.

Blaine pulled his wrist from Sebastian's grasp harder than he intended. He didn't want Sebastian touching those marks. As disgusting as they looked to everyone else, they were a reminder of Kurt, and to Blaine, that made them sacred. It broke his heart to think that in a week or so they would be gone. Thinking about it in those terms made Blaine’s heart hurt. It spread to his chest, and breathing became almost impossible.

Kurt. Blaine didn't know when he would see Kurt again...and it was not okay.

None of this was okay.

Blaine needed Kurt to make it okay.

Kurt woke up hours later, eyes burning, nose runny, and a cheesecake beside his head. Underneath the plate was a note with five fingerprints, each a different size, each decorated with arms, legs, and a smiley face. One for Dave and one for each of the kids. Kurt smiled, picking up the fork on the plate and digging in to his cheesecake as the light outside dimmed and the room became dark.

Kurt heard his phone chirp. He had to search underneath the blanket and in his pocket to find it.

 _From: Blaine_  
_How are you, my love?_

Kurt smiled sadly and sent a reply.

 _From: Kurt_  
_Miserable. Kids and Dave made me cheesecake for dinner. What about you?_

 _From: Blaine_  
_The same, except without the cheesecake._

Blaine chuckled, imagining his angel, eyes shining and red-rimmed from crying, tucked under his covers, eating an entire cheesecake. Of course, the kids had helped make it, and Blaine wasn't too sure of their culinary skills, so he wondered if the cheesecake was crooked, or burnt, or maybe some odd shape. Blaine found himself laughing out loud at the image of four kids covered in cream cheese, trying so hard to cheer up Kurt.

 _From: Blaine_  
_It's lonely here without you. Cold, too._

Kurt scrunched his face. He almost started crying again.

 _From: Kurt_  
_I know. I'm in this house surrounded by people, and I feel so alone. I miss you so much, Blaine._

Blaine didn't like knowing that his angel was sad, but it felt nice to be missed.

 _From: Blaine_  
_I'm sorry. Have you unpacked yet?_

His question caught Kurt off-guard.

 _From: Kurt_  
_Not yet. Why?_

 _From: Blaine_  
_Because if you do, you might think of me._

Kurt smiled from ear to ear, knowing that there must be some tiny stowaway stuffed into one of his bags.

 _From: Kurt_  
_I can't wait._

 _From: Blaine_  
_What are you going to do now?_

 _From: Kurt_  
_I think I'll just retire with my sketch book and design a new jacket. Maybe I can make it before I see you again..._

Kurt had to stop himself from writing _'if_ I see you again'. Blaine had promised to find them a way, and Kurt had promised to wait, but it’s still how Kurt felt things would turn out in the end.

Blaine had remembered seeing Kurt, sitting on the patio at sunrise, bent over his sketchbook. Blaine never asked about it, and Kurt never offered to show him, but Blaine had assumed Kurt was sketching the ocean.

 _From: Blaine_  
_So, what are you doing this week?_

 _From: Kurt_  
_Choir practice. On Tuesday and again on Friday. I should blow it off, but it gives me something to look forward to...and seeing if I can get more hours at the rec center._

Choir practice. Suddenly, Blaine had an idea. He pulled out his tablet and started searching. He continued his conversation with Kurt until Kurt had to go get the kids ready for bed. Blaine didn't let on what he was thinking, but the more Blaine worked out his genius plan, the giddier he got. This would work. This would definitely work.

And then Blaine would finally get to see everything there was to see of Kurt Hummel.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for language. Also, I give a nod to CrissColfer fans out there. :)

"Kurt, can I talk to you for a second?"  
  
Kurt got up from his seat and approached the podium.  
  
"What's up, Mr. Schue?"  
  
"Well, I was hoping you could do me a favor," the choir director started. Kurt raised an eyebrow. The moment he walked into practice on Tuesday evening, Mr. Schuester informed Kurt that he would be the featured soloist at the upcoming scholarship competition. Kurt wanted to object, but very few people could resist Will Schuester's constant optimistic enthusiasm. The whole event supported a worthy cause. Also, Mr. Schue made it sound like Kurt didn't really have a choice, making the announcement with a look in his eye like he had just hatched the greatest plan ever. In the end, Kurt couldn't find it in his heart to say no, though he really had no clue what he was going to sing.  
  
"Ok. Shoot." Kurt pulled himself onto a stool next to the choir director. Mr. Schue leaned in as if he was about to impart a huge and magnificent secret.  
  
"Well, as you may have heard, we were able to secure some real celebrity judges for the Purple Pageant this year..."  
  
"Aaahhh, so Dr. Parsons and Liam Dodge from the Kiwanis Club actually agreed this year?" Kurt said with a sly wink.  
  
"No," Mr. Shue said with a significant look. "No, Kurt, I mean REAL celebrities." Mr. Shue leaned in closer to Kurt, eyes darting back and forth. "Like, _television_ celebrities."  
  
Kurt's eyes widened.  
  
"Really?" Kurt said. "I thought that was just a rumor."  
  
"No, it's not, but we're keeping it under wraps for now until all the student applications are in and everything gets ironed out."  
  
"That's...that's great!" Kurt said. "Oh, Mr. Schue. With any luck the scholarship will be huge this year."  
  
"Yes." The director nodded.  
  
"So, how can I help?"  
  
"Well, since you're not competing for the scholarship, I was hoping you could act as liaison. You know, bring them drinks or pencils, just be a 'go-for' I guess." Mr. Schue winced, realizing the term "go-for" might sound bad.  
  
"Sure." Kurt let the words wash by. "Just call me your gal Friday."  
  
"Great!" Mr. Schue smiled, clapping Kurt on the shoulder.  
  
Kurt turned on the stool to stand, but something niggled in the back of his mind, and he needed an answer.  
  
"That's another thing," Kurt said. "I don't understand. I'm not competing for the Criss Colfer Scholarship. Why am I singing?"  
  
"Well," Mr. Schue started, looking up from his sheet music a little uncomfortably, "these celebrity judges, they're volunteering their time...and they're BIG celebrities, Kurt. They didn't want anything, really..." Mr. Schue looked sheepish as he rambled. Kurt could tell something about this arrangement had Mr. Schue confused, too. "You know, usually we don't invite big name celebrities, because they need specific accommodations, and that costs money that we don't have."  
  
Kurt nodded.  
  
"But this guy..."  
  
 _This guy?_  
  
"He called us. Called us out of the blue, and volunteered to judge. He said he didn't want anything. They would take care of everything they needed. But..."  
  
Mr. Schue bit his lip, looking down at his sheet music.  
  
"But what, Mr. Schue?" Kurt said, trying to keep the conversation going.  
  
"Well, they did ask for one condition..."  
  
Kurt sighed. He suddenly figured it out. He looked down and shook his head, an amused smile on his face.  
  
"Let me guess...he wants to hear me sing?" Damn, Kurt thought. _Got to admit it...he's good._  
  
"Yeah," Mr. Schue said, a bit bemused. "How did you know?"  
  
Kurt looked up and smiled.  
  
"You don't have to worry, Mr. Schue." Kurt laughed. "Print your fliers. Their coming."  
  
"What?" Mr. Shue said. "How do you...?"  
  
"I'll tell Blaine Anderson that you're a fan." Kurt winked at his startled director as he laughed to himself and almost skipped away.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_From: Kurt_   
_You're a sneaky bastard, Blaine Anderson._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_Well, good morning to you, too, gorgeous._   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_You know, I was going to try and find a way to sneak out of that performance, but now you have me dead to rights. Well played._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_;)_   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_You're lucky you're hot. Now I have to go shopping and buy a new pair of pants._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_I'm hot? And why do you need a new pair of pants._   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_Because the competition is called the Purple Pageant. I don't know why, something about the sponsor's fave color being purple. I know I'm not competing, but I need something purple, and I don't have a thing._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_..._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_I know you're going to say no, but I really wish you wouldn't._   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_No to what?_   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_Let me do something for you?_   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_..._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_Please?_   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_I'm singing in public...for you. Yes, you owe me..._   
  
_From: Blaine_   
_:)_   
  


* * *

  
  
A few days later, Kurt found himself in a store he hadn't stepped foot into in years...a store he missed so much it physically hurt. He stopped at the threshold and took a deep, cleansing breath to calm his nerves.  
  
 _'I am Kurt Hummel,'_ he said to himself. _'And I know how to shop. I am worthy.'_  
  
Kurt stepped into Nordstrom's. He walked to the men's department, trying hard not to look too eager, and over to the special fittings desk. A young, bottle blond woman stood behind the counter oogling over an impeccably dressed young man - black hair styled perfectly to Kurt's discriminating taste, in a beautifully tailored Ralph Lauren dress shirt and slacks.  
  
Kurt swallowed hard, ready to make his presence known.  
  
Then the man turned, his sparkling smile lighting his face as he extended a hand.  
  
"You must be Kurt Hummel!" the man declared, sounding more than excited. "You're early. I like that in a man." He tossed a wink Kurt's way. The girl sitting at the counter withered with jealousy.  
  
"Uh...do I know you?" Kurt asked.  
  
"Not yet," the man said, coming out from behind the counter and wrapping Kurt in a warm embrace. Kurt almost didn't know what to do. "But I have a feeling that you and I are going to become famous friends."  
  
Kurt giggled. He couldn't help it. This man's attitude was infectious.  
  
"Who exactly are you?" Kurt asked, slightly perplexed.  
  
"I am Nick Duval," the young man said, gesturing dramatically to himself. "I am Blaine Anderson's personal shopper. He has instructed me to buy you whatever you want."  
  
Kurt smiled awkwardly. The glimmer in Nick's eyes told Kurt that he might know what was going on between him and Blaine. Nick took Kurt's arm, and held him tight. Nick pulled Kurt close, and leaned into his ear.  
  
"By the way," Nick whispered, his voice giddy, "I saw Blaine's wrists, and I have to say I like the way you work."  
  
Kurt nearly choked as Nick pulled him away towards the dressing room.  
  
Kurt waited in the tiny wooden room while Nick ran around, a dynamo of energy, pulling this pair and that pair off the rack, and delivering them to Kurt for his approval. Kurt settled on several pair, and started trying them on. He gave Nick the okay to stay in the room with him, as it seemed Nick had no intention of leaving anyway.  
  
"I wish you had let me come get you in the car." Nick hung more pants in the dressing room for Kurt to look at. Kurt never realized that purple pants were quite so in. Nick must have found two dozen different pairs.  
  
 _'Look at the pants, not the tags,'_ Kurt chanted to himself, _'look at the pants, not the tags...$500! Holy shit!'_  
  
"I couldn't do that," Kurt stammered a bit. "Blaine's already being so generous...and I..."  
  
"You don't like him doing things for you?" Nick said in a quiet, sympathetic voice. "Things you think you should pay back."  
  
Kurt dropped his head a bit. Nick sighed.  
  
"You know..." Nick looked over the pair of pants Kurt had tried on, pulling here and there to appraise the fit. "...I'm one of Blaine's oldest friends, and he pretty much tells me everything. But even if he had never said a word about you, I can tell he thinks you're amazing."  
  
"How do you know?" Kurt looked down at his feet, instead of his own reflection in the mirror.  
  
"Well..." Nick handed Kurt another pair of pants, prompting him silently to change, "it's in the look in his eye." Nick smiled. "And, I know that look. I'm in love, too."  
  
Kurt looked up, but he couldn't meet Nick's gaze. Kurt sighed.  
  
"He told me he loved me," Kurt admitted. He hadn't really spoken to anyone about this, not even Dave. "I'm just not sure what he sees in me. We're just so...different."  
  
"I've only known you for an hour, and do you know what I see?"  
  
This time, Kurt looked into Nick's face, and shook his head. Nick put firm hands on Kurt's shoulders and looked deep into his blue eyes.  
  
"I see... a force to be reckoned with."  
  
Kurt chuckled. Nick hugged Kurt, and this time, Kurt enthusiastically hugged him back. Nick was right. They were going to become friends.  
  
"So..." Nick pulled away from Kurt a bit, "which ones do you like?"  
  
Kurt looked through the numerous pairs of pants, and then turned to Nick with a shy, but slightly wicked smile.  
  
"Could you show me which ones Blaine might like?"  
  
Kurt was pleased when Nick's smile mirrored his own.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Hummel..." Nick dropped his voice seductively, "I know exactly which ones Mr. Anderson would prefer."

* * *

  
Blaine was all set for the trip to San Diego, to judge the competition, to see his Kurt sing. He had wrangled his friend Lucy Bale from another television show that filmed in the same studio to go with him, but at the last minute her dog got sick, and he was left in the lurch. He needed another celebrity to act as judge, but being last minute, no one was available.  
  
Well, one person was available. Only Blaine really didn't want to ask.  
  
Blaine sighed. His relationship with Sebastian had started out a little strained when he returned from his rendez-vous cut short, but since their affair had never revolved around any real emotions, it didn't take them too long to ease back into a comfortable indifference. All the same, Blaine really didn't look forward to going to Sebastian for help...especially not with this.  
  
Blaine fixed on his brightest smile, and bounced over to where Sebastian sat, reading a copy of _Esquire_.  
  
"Hey, Bas." Blaine turned a chair backward and sat down, resting his hands on the back rest. "We're friends, right?"  
  
"Sort of," Sebastian answered without looking up. "But the answer is no."  
  
Sebastian looked up at Blaine's bemused expression and smirked.  
  
"I heard about you trolling the lot, trying to find anyone to come with you to your little pet charity event," Sebastian explained. "I'm kind of offended you didn't ask me first."  
  
"I didn't think it was your scene," Blaine whined.  
  
"It's not," Sebastian agreed, looking back down at his magazine. "But it would have been nice to be first on the list."  
  
"And if you had been?" Blaine started to get frustrated.  
  
"I still would have said no."  
  
Blaine blew out a frustrated breath, looking around, wondering if one of the key grips or a random make-up artist might do the trick. Sebastian noticed he was losing his audience. He closed his magazine, and set it down.  
  
"Why should I do this?" Sebastian asked, catching Blaine's attention. Blaine raised his eyebrows, looking for a reason that might appeal to Sebastian.  
  
"Because it'll be fun?"  
  
Sebastian didn't look convinced.  
  
"Because it'll improve your karma?" Blaine tried again.  
  
When Sebastian's expression didn't change, Blaine sighed.  
  
"Look, I'll buy you lunch..."  
  
Silence.  
  
"And dinner?"  
  
Sebastian fixed Blaine with an odd, unreadable grin.  
  
"So...kind of like a date?"  
  
Blaine thought he saw something strange in Sebastian's eyes...something that looked momentarily hopeful, but Blaine let the thought pass. He shrugged.  
  
"Whatever works," Blaine said.  
  
"Okay," Sebastian smirked, standing up. "Let's do this then."

* * *

  
  
Sebastian knew when he was being ignored. The entire drive to San Diego, Sebastian didn't even exist. Not to Blaine, anyway. Sebastian watched Blaine with hard, calculating eyes as Blaine looked out the window, sang with the radio, and smiled at nothing at all, sometimes biting his lip and blushing.  
  
Sebastian was disgusted.  
  
Sebastian was certain that when Blaine returned from San Diego and hadn't even mentioned his little freak, that the two of them would fall back into the swing of things. Or more specifically, the fuck of the things. Blaine hadn't approached him, and every time Sebastian suggested they retreat to his trailer for a little skin on skin action, Blaine shot him down.  
  
Halfway into the ride, they hit traffic, and Blaine felt it would be a good opportunity to grab some lunch. They stopped at an In 'N Out to wait it out.  
  
"You know," Sebastian said, stabbing a French fry into some ketchup, "I love burgers as much as the next guy, but when you said lunch, I pictured something a little more upscale."  
  
"Don't be such a snob." Blaine smiled to himself again, and Sebastian had almost had enough.  
  
"What exactly is going on here?" Sebastian asked.  
  
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, focused on his burger, and not Sebastian.  
  
"Well, first off, you're acting really goofy..."  
  
Blaine chuckled and shook his head.  
  
"Annnd..." Sebastian continued, "I've never really known you to volunteer for philanthropy, so why don't you tell me exactly why you're doing this."  
  
Blaine's phone chimed. Sebastian looked down when Blaine did and noticed his text message alert...an abbreviated version of 'Defying Gravity'. On the screen was a message, and beside it a thumbnail picture of Kurt, taken on the beach during Blaine's stay in San Diego. Blaine smiled automatically and picked up the phone to read the message. Then, with an almost girlish giggle, he quickly typed a response. Sebastian looked at his friend's display with obvious disgust.  
  
"So, this isn't about philanthropy," Sebastian said, focusing on his fries. "This is about Hummel."  
  
Blaine swallowed thickly and nodded, toying absently with his own fries.  
  
"I thought you were over that," Sebastian said curtly. "You don't mention him anymore."  
  
Blaine texted Kurt from the set constantly, but he kept their relationship mostly to himself, to avoid the rude comments that Sebastian and Mia loved to make at Kurt's expense.  
  
"And this isn't really a date, is it?" Sebastian asked, "At least, not with me, is it?"  
  
Blaine looked at Sebastian, mildly confused.  
  
"Well, that's great." Sebastian stabbed his fry into the ketchup, and then tossed it down.  
  
"What?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Only that you've been sticking your dick up my ass for the better part of a year, trying to "find yourself", trying to "figure things out"..." Sebastian growled out with exaggerated air quotes, "And for what? To decide you're in love with this little twink in San Diego?"  
  
"Sebastian!" Blaine admonished, eyes wide, looking around at the disapproving glares of the people in the booth next to them.  
  
"Oh, fuck them!" Sebastian gestured at the other patrons angrily. "I have invested time in us! You don't think that our relationship mattered to me?" Sebastian had a glimmer of what looked like hurt on his face. "You don't think that I care!?"  
  
Blaine looked at Sebastian like he was going nuts.  
  
"No, I honestly didn't think you would care!" Blaine said. "You're the one that said from the beginning that this...this...whatever this was between us was just about sex. No love, no commitment, not even any emotion. And I agreed."  
  
Sebastian looked passed Blaine, out the window at the cars lined up in the drive thru. Blaine looked at the emotions playing across his face. Blaine felt a little sorry for Sebastian. Had he taken Sebastian for granted? Blaine couldn't imagine how. Sebastian was always very clear with regard to the nature of their relationship, and Sebastian used Blaine for sex just as much as Blaine used Sebastian. When did Blaine all of a sudden become responsible for every one else's wants and needs? Why couldn't he just focus on his own?  
  
"Look," Blaine said diplomatically, "we started out as friends, right?"  
  
Sebastian kept his gaze fixed out the window.  
  
"Can we just get through tonight without killing each other? Can't we play nice?"  
  
"Fine." Sebastian picked up his tray and tossed out what was left of his food. He had lost his appetite. "Let's go play nice."


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a first look at the competition. It's kind of an involved scene so I split it into a few parts. I hope you enjoy this one. Warning for biting and foul language.

Kurt arrived to the theater a good thirty minutes early. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous about performing in his life. Probably not since his audition for NYADA, he thought. He wore a carefully tailored shirt of his own design, and those gorgeous purple pants Nick had chosen. Every one he saw told him how amazing he looked. It had taken him nearly an hour to get dressed, but he spent the whole day preparing mentally for tonight.    
  
He might as well have shown up completely naked. Tonight, he would lay his soul out in front of Blaine Anderson. The minute he knew Blaine would finally see him sing, the idea for the perfect song came to him. At least, it seemed perfect at the time. Now he wondered if it would be too much.  
  
Kurt watched the doors open as the audience began to arrive. He knew most of the faces - school board members, local business owners, students from the rec center. They all seemed to arrive at once. From the look of the mob waiting to get in, it looked like tonight was going to be a full house. Suddenly, he started to feel sick. He flexed the fingers of his clammy hands, willing his palms with silent prayers to stop sweating. He didn't want to wipe his hands on his pants subconsciously, so he decided to go to the downstair's bathroom and dry them off. Then he sat on a chair, and waited. Kurt could hear the commotion from upstairs get louder as more people arrived, and he almost forgot how to breathe.  
  
He heard footsteps race down the stairs and he knew it was time.  
  
"Kurt," Mr. Schue called, frantically searching him out. "We need you."

* * *

  
"So, what are we doing again?" Sebastian asked. Blaine and Sebastian had been escorted to the mezzanine, which had been kept empty just for the celebrity judges. Two ushers set up a long table between the first row of seats and the rail. Sebastian sat in front of a small stack of papers and about twenty tiny pencils, each about as thin as a nail. He tried to write with one of them and it broke. Same with pencils two through fifteen. He gave up, and started arranging them on the table into random obscene shapes.  
  
Blaine paced the row of chairs nervously, waiting to see his beautiful angel. The moment the director, William Schuester, had asked them if they needed anything, Blaine immediately said yes, knowing that Kurt would be sent to help them.  
  
"Well," Blaine said, still pacing, "people are going to sing, and we'll pick out the best one. That person will get the scholarship."  
  
"But, we don't know how much this scholarship is?" Sebastian said, putting the final touches on his pencil penis.  
  
"Nope," Blaine replied. "The final amount is a total of the $30,000 donated by the sponsors, a portion of the ticket sales, and some auction they're going to have later."  
  
"And what is there to buy?" Sebastian added some tiny pencil cum.  
  
"Uh..." Blaine thumbed through the program he had been strangling in his hands as he paced. He raised his eyebrows. "The...performers, actually."  
  
Sebastian looked up.  
  
"Kinky," he said with a wink. "Maybe we can salvage this evening after all."  
  
"Their voices," Blaine explained with a scowl. "You buy your favorite performer and have them record your answering machine message, or something."  
  
"Great," Sebastian deadpanned. "So, who do we have to blow to get a bottle of water and a pencil that works?"  
  
"That would be me," an angelic voice answered.  
  
Blaine's smile lit up his face at the sound. He turned to see Kurt negotiating the seats, walking toward them. Blaine's heart slammed in his chest, and then stopped at the sight of Kurt dressed in head to toe purple - a perfectly tailored shirt that Blaine knew Kurt had made himself, and the most delicious looking pair of purple velvet pants he had ever seen. Blaine stopped short.  
  
"Those...are an amazing pair of pants." Blaine looked him over appreciatively, "and may I add you're wearing the hell out of them."  
  
"Really?" Kurt said with a tiny squeak. He hated the way it sounded, but he didn't mind the hungry look in Blaine's eyes as he nodded silently.  
  
"Yup." Blaine longed to reach out and rub his hands up and down the soft fabric.  
  
"Well, you should thank Nick," Kurt replied shyly, feeling very unlike himself beneath Blaine's scrutiny. "He thought you would like them."  
  
"He was definitely right." Blaine couldn't stop staring. "But you know, I don't think they would look as good if they weren't on you."  
  
Blaine stood close...so close. Somehow without realizing it, he had closed the distance between them, his eyes trained like a laser sight on those felony pair of pants, Kurt's pouty lips, the alluring flush in his cheeks...  
  
"Yeah, you look great, princess. Can I get a bottle of water and a pencil that works?" Sebastian lamented.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
"Hold that thought," he whispered seductively.  
  
Kurt looked around Blaine's body to where Sebastian sat.  
  
"One moment and I'll get that for you."  
  
Kurt fixed Blaine with his intense sapphire gaze.  
  
"And what do you need, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt's innocent voice calling Blaine by his last name had him hard in an instant. Blaine sucked in a quick breath through his teeth. He leaned in to Kurt a bit so only he could hear.  
  
"You," Blaine whispered. "On your knees."  
  
Kurt's eyes danced as he smiled.  
  
"Well, Mr. Anderson, buy me at the auction, and we'll talk."  
  
Kurt winked, then turned smoothly on his heel. With a gentle sashay of his velvet clad hips, he sauntered away.

* * *

  
Since Kurt's main capacity was making sure Sebastian and Blaine had everything they needed, he stayed up in the mezzanine. He sat beside Blaine, one hand laced with his as he imagined they were out on the town, watching an opera or a musical, like a real couple in love.  
  
Sebastian had no respect for Kurt's daydreams, however, asking for at least four more bottles of water. Kurt wondered where he was storing it all since he hadn't gotten up to use the restroom once. Sebastian would have given anything to make Kurt disappear, but Kurt was wise to Sebastian's game, and after the fourth water request, he brought up the whole pallet. After that, Sebastian didn't ask for anything.  
  
Blaine kept one hand on Kurt's knee, enjoying the plush fabric clinging like sin to his muscular legs. Blaine longed to run his fingers slowly up the seam and softly palm Kurt's cock, watch him writhe beside him in the dark safety of the theater, but he knew Kurt was nervous. Blaine was sure that giving Kurt a hard-on before he was set to perform wasn't exactly the right course of action. Though Blaine was pretty sure that a quick fuck in the bathroom might help. Still, he kept his lascivious ideas to himself.  
  
Blaine didn't realize how difficult judging this competition would turn out to be, and it wasn't just for the distraction of the handsome man sitting at his side. There must have been twenty singers. Some of them tried way too hard, and some of them...Blaine wasn't exactly sure who told them they could sing, but those people needed to be drug out to the curb and shot. There were a handful of truly talented vocalists, but after a while, every one started to run together and sound the same.  
  
After singer number 15, the lights came up in the theater, and every one took an intermission. Blaine was thankful to stand up and stretch his legs. Once he did, he noticed Sebastian's eyes staring overtly at his crotch. Sitting beside Kurt in the dark, touching his legs lightly with his fingers, and thinking of all the dirty things he was dying to do, had given Blaine an incredible erection.  
  
"Well, Blainers." Sebastian stood and stretched alongside Blaine. "Who knew that musical theater in tiny cow towns would give you a woody."  
  
Blaine turned quickly out of Sebastian's eye line, except now his crotch was inches from Kurt's face. Kurt laughed. He stood and sat himself on the long wooden table so he could be closer to Blaine's eyes instead.  
  
"Well," Sebastian said, picking his way passed the seats, "since I don't imagine you two are up for a threesome while we wait for the next batch of losers to sing, I'm going to go rub one out in the bathroom."  
  
"Down the stairs, two rights and a left," Kurt instructed dismissively as Sebastian walked by. Kurt didn't realize how relieved he would feel when Sebastian left.  
  
"So," Blaine said, trying to relieve the tension, "if you were going to choose someone for this scholarship, who would the lucky winner be?"  
  
Kurt chuckled.  
  
"Seriously?" Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded.  
  
"Well, I'd give it to Bethany Philips," Kurt said. Blaine leaned a bit to look over the balcony, trying to see if he remembered a Bethany.  
  
"Short woman," Kurt helped, "in the atrocious purple dress suit with the adorable Jimmy Choos?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Blaine said, reseating himself. "She sang that opera piece. She was really good."  
  
"Yup, she is exceptional," Kurt agreed. "She's competed for this scholarship for four straight years."  
  
Blaine looked surprised.  
  
"Why hasn't she gotten it yet?"  
  
"She's older than the other students, and a single mom with two kids," Kurt said, crossing his long legs. Blaine couldn't help but turn his attention toward them. Kurt's legs in anything were gorgeous, but tonight, they were simply mouthwatering. Blaine noticed for a moment that Kurt had stopped talking. He snapped his eyes up to meet Kurt's, a wicked smile on his angelic face.  
  
"Eyes up here, soldier..." Kurt smirked, and Blaine actually blushed.  
  
"Anyway," Kurt continued, "most of our judges want to give the scholarship to the out-of-high-school-ingenues, even if Bethany does outsing them hands down. Last year was the most heartbreaking though..."  
  
"Why?" Blaine asked, trying his hardest to listen diligently.  
  
"Because we managed to get the scholarship up to $60,000. That was our best year...we got so many sponsors, and the auction was out of control. Anyway, that amount of money would have put Bethany through school for 2 years. She doesn't just want to perform, she wants to go into music therapy. Her daughter's autistic, too. The school she picked out has a program for her kids and off-campus housing..." Kurt looked sort of wistful for a second, before blowing out a sigh and looking back at Blaine.  
  
"They gave it to a girl who changed her mind at the last minute and never went to college. I don't know what she did with the money..."  
  
Blaine shook his head.  
  
"That sucks." Blaine took a moment to file the name away. Bethany Philips.  
  
"Ooo, this sounds interesting," Sebastian uttered suggestively. "What sucks?" Sebastian stopped in the row behind Kurt and Blaine, standing between them. He gestured to the two of them and smiled. "Nothing sordid happened while I was gone, did it?" Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows. Kurt suspected he was trying to kid, but it just came off as creepy.  
  
"Actually," Kurt said, hopping down from the table, "what sucks is I have to go, and warm up for my song."  
  
Blaine didn't know whether to be elated or disappointed. He enjoyed having Kurt beside him again, even if they were just holding hands in a dark theater. On the other hand, Blaine had come all this way on a mission - and that was to hear his perfect angel sing.  
  
"Go, my love," Blaine said softly, kissing Kurt on the neck below his ear. Kurt gasped. Feeling Blaine's lips on his skin was like breathing again after too much time spent buried underground. Kurt blushed. Blaine's fingers barely brushed Kurt's arm as he pulled away, and his entire body tingled.  
  
Kurt noticed movement from the corner of his eye and saw Sebastian, staring at them. Kurt didn't like the look in his eyes - the heat, the smoldering heat aimed at Blaine. Kurt's eyes shone in the dark, his lips curled deviously at the corners.  
  
"Um, Mr. Anderson." Kurt ran a long, thin finger down the column of Blaine's neck. Blaine held his breath. "I noticed your mark is going away."  
  
Blaine could barely swallow. He looked into Kurt's prismatic eyes, spiraling with color, and the spell was cast.  
  
"Please," Blaine whispered, "put it back?"  
  
It was a sweet request, one that surged like molten heat through Kurt's body and ignited him like a Roman candle. Kurt approached Blaine in that feline way that made Blaine melt. Blaine's top button was already undone, so Kurt undid the next one. Eyes locked on Blaine's, Kurt moved sinfully slow, brushing aside the soft fabric of Blaine's Brooke's Brothers shirt, running his fingertips gently over the skin, still tender from the original bite Kurt left there weeks ago. Kurt moved in slowly, his warm breath spreading over Blaine's skin. Blaine's eyelids fluttered closed. With just a flick of his eyes up to take in the almost awe struck expression on Sebastian's face, Kurt closed his eyes, and brushed his lips over Blaine's waiting neck. Then Kurt opened his mouth and bit.  
  
Kurt started out gently, simply pressing his teeth into Blaine's skin, enjoying the moan that escaped Blaine's throat. Kurt could feel Sebastian's eyes burn into him. Spurred on, Kurt was about to reach up, thread his fingers in Blaine's hair and bite hard. Blaine beat him to it. He carefully cupped the back of Kurt's head, so as not to muss his hair, and leaning his head to give Kurt better access, pushed gently to urge Kurt on.  
  
That small gesture of want, need, submission, burned deep into Kurt, more than any amount of heat from Sebastian's impotent glare. Kurt's teeth dug deep into Blaine's skin, his arm snaking around to catch Blaine when his knees began to buckle. Kurt heard a tiny hiss when he bit harder, but Blaine sighed, and he could feel relaxation flow through his body. Kurt felt Blaine becoming hard against him, and he smiled.  
  
Kurt was beginning to realize just how much he owned this man.  
  
Kurt moved away from the bite on Blaine's neck, licking over it lightly to soothe the sting. Blaine opened his eyes to look at Kurt. Kurt bit his lip as he buttoned Blaine's shirt.  
  
"How do I look?" Blaine asked breathlessly.  
  
Kurt looked bashful for a moment, running his hands up Blaine's arms and pulling him close.  
  
"You look like mine."  
  
That's when Blaine noticed it. Kurt's signature scent of vanilla was gone, replaced by Blaine's own scent of cedar. Blaine knew Kurt had found the bottle of cologne. He smiled.  
  
"You smell like mine," Blaine whispered.  
  
Kurt swallowed, not daring to look away.  
  
"That's because I _am_ yours."  
  
Blaine's heart nearly stopped in his chest.  
  
Kurt ran his fingers down Blaine's stunned face, tracing his lips, and then resting his hand over his heart. Kurt walked backward just a bit to look at Blaine, his beautiful Blaine, and then turned to leave.  
  
Blaine took a few steps, as if he was going to follow, but stopped.  
  
"I...I love you, Kurt Hummel."  
  
Kurt stopped, looking back at Blaine. Blaine's angel smiled as the house lights flashed, signaling every one to return to their seats.  
  
"I love you, too, Blaine Anderson."  
  
Kurt stepped through the door and down the stairs to get ready.  
  
Blaine watched him go.  
  
The house lights flickered again, and Blaine returned to his seat. A shell shocked Sebastian, stood stock still where they had left him.  
  
Sebastian's eyes flashed with an expression that looked almost like rage.  
  
"Wh-what the fuck was THAT?"  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have the second part of the concert scene. It stands alone because we have a little bromance brewing. Also, the Ashley that Kurt invites on stage is a nod to Ashley Fink. Love you, girl :)

Blaine refused to talk with Sebastian about what he had just witnessed between him and Kurt. The moment Kurt's eyes locked onto Blaine's, and he had pleaded with Kurt to mark him, everything...the theater, the competition, and Sebastian, had all washed away like the tide. Their moment, shared in front of anyone who found it necessary to watch, was just for them.  
  
"I mean, love," Sebastian continued fruitlessly, "that's a strong word. You've known him, what, a little more than a month?"  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes as the next singer came on stage to perform.  
  
"I've heard you say you love Crown Royale," Sebastian ticked off on his fingers in a hushed whisper, "your sports car, your hair dresser's tiramisu. So, love with you is kind of a vague, empty thing, right?"  
  
Blaine really wanted to put a hand over Sebastian's mouth, but he had no intention of putting anything of his near Sebastian's face. So he handed Sebastian another bottle of water with a severe look, and turned his attention back toward the stage.  
  
Blaine didn't listen as the remaining singers on stage sang. His mind wandered to whatever green room Kurt occupied, warming up his voice, maybe tugging nervously on his shirt, possibly thinking of him. God, Blaine hoped he was thinking of him, because Blaine couldn't stop thinking of Kurt - the way he smelled, the way he felt in his arms, the way his lips brushed against his skin.  
  
Halfway through a slightly pitchy rendition of "Annie, Get Your Gun", Blaine spotted a familiar burly figure in a black suit carrying an armful of lavender roses being ushered into the lower level of the theater, and directed to the standing room only section.  
  
"I'll be right back."  
  
Blaine bolted quickly but quietly from the mezzanine and down the staircase. The usher opened the door for him. He tiptoed to where Dave stood, rocking from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Blaine touched his arm gently to get his attention. Dave started slightly. He turned to see Blaine touching his arm, and smiled warily. Blaine motioned to the door. Dave looked confused, but followed after him. Out in the lobby, Blaine spoke.  
  
"We have a couple of extra seats up in the mezzanine." Blaine smiled as he made his way to the staircase. "They're the best seats in the house."  
  
"Thanks." Dave, bemused, climbed the stairs. "I didn't mean to be so late, but I couldn't get Eva down."  
  
"Who's watching the kids?" Blaine asked.  
  
Dave opened his eyes wide in surprise, a little confused as to why Blaine actually cared.  
  
"Oh...uh... a friend of mine from the LGBTQ center I volunteer for downtown. She stopped by just long enough so I can see Kurt sing, then I have to go back."  
  
Blaine silently cheered that he would get the evening alone with Kurt, but he also felt guilty. Dave loved Kurt, that much was obvious. Kurt had, in essence, been Dave's one and only for so long.  
  
Blaine directed Dave to the seat beside him. Sebastian looked at the two, his brow furrowing as he took in the massive man with the flowers.  
  
Blaine sighed. Once again, he had forgotten about Sebastian.  
  
"Sebastian," Blaine whispered, gesturing to the other man, "this is Dave Karofsky. Dave, this is Sebastian Smythe."  
  
Both men regarded each other with narrow eyes. Dave placed the bouquet delicately on the table, rescuing a few blooms from being crushed. Sebastian watched Dave in silence.  
  
Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, covering the bright screen with his hand as he read the message.  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _Wish me luck <3_  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _Good luck, my beautiful, my love. Knock 'em dead._  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _I intend to ;)_  
  
Blaine noticed Dave glance over at him with an odd expression.  
  
"Kurt." Blaine flashed the screen in Dave's direction to show him the original text. "Do you want me to tell him you're here?"  
  
Dave's eyes appraised Blaine in the oddest way. Blaine wasn't sure what to make of it, but regardless, he needed Dave on his side.  
  
It wasn't just that. Blaine found a need for the man to like him, to trust him. He wanted them to be friends.  
  
"Yes...please." Dave smiled; just a small, wavering lift at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Blaine texted quickly, and got an immediate response. He smiled and turned the screen for Dave to see.  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _Yay! Hi, Dave. Thank God you could make it!_  
 _Signed - The Dancing Queen_  
  
Dave's face melted into a smile so full of love and affection, Blaine's heart stuttered. Blaine knew that smile. He himself wore it every time he saw Kurt, got a text from Kurt, thought about Kurt...  
  
"Dancing Queen?" Blaine asked, eyebrows raised.  
  
Dave looked at Blaine. He still wasn't quite sure about this man, but he knew Kurt loved him. Dave loved Kurt desperately. He needed to at least try and give Blaine a chance.  
  
"Our junior year," Dave began, leaning over toward Blaine, "I was elected prom king...and Kurt...uh...won prom queen..."  
  
Dave looked down at his hands in his lap. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him, waiting for an explanation.  
  
"It was a joke..." Dave continued. "Kurt was out and proud, and kids at our school hated that they couldn't keep him down..."  
  
Dave's expression was pained, but also strangely tinged with regret. Blaine waited patiently as Dave gathered his thoughts.  
  
"The first dance for the king and queen was 'Dancing Queen'." Dave's lips lifted in a half smile.  
  
"The ABBA song?" Blaine asked with a chuckle.  
  
"Yeah." Dave chuckled back.  
  
"Well, what did Kurt do?" Blaine lingered on Dave's every word. Dave noticed Blaine's extreme interest. Maybe Blaine was a good guy. Maybe they could be friends.  
  
"He owned it," Dave said with pride. "Accepted his crown and walked out on the floor, ready to dance...but..."  
  
Dave looked into Blaine's expectant face.  
  
"I wasn't out yet," Dave defended, "and I was scared. So, I left him there, on the dance floor."  
  
Blaine gasped, sitting back up. Dave looked back at his hands, ashamed. Blaine didn't know how to feel about Dave's confession. On one hand, Blaine was upset that Dave would do that to Kurt, his Kurt. On the other hand, Blaine couldn't admit that he wouldn't have done the same. He wasn't exactly 'out and proud' in high school either. Dave had obviously made it up to Kurt. He was devoted to him. Blaine put a hand carefully over Dave's. Dave looked at it, blinking away his thoughts of the past and a long hidden shame.  
  
"Anyway," Dave said, "whenever he knows I worry about him, he signs his texts 'Dancing Queen'. It's his way of saying 'he's got this'."  
  
Blaine squeezed Dave's hand, before turning to applaud the singer on stage, whose song Blaine hadn't heard a note of. Dave thought for a moment, and then leaned back over towards Blaine.  
  
"I...failed Kurt a lot," Dave confessed. Blaine turned to look at the expression on Dave's face, contrite and full of regret. "Please...don't do the same."  
  
"I won't," Blaine said, holding Dave's sincere gaze.  
  
Sebastian watched the interchange between these two with interest. When they broke away from their conversation, he leaned over to Blaine.  
  
"What's with Hummel that he's got the two of you so fuckin' head over heels in love?" Sebastian smirked as he watched Blaine's face harden, his eyes turn cold. "I think I've got to get myself into that man's pants. You know, see if he can make me fall in love with him, too."  
  
Blaine gripped the arms of the seat until his body shook. Dave looked over at Blaine's reaction, and the look of smug triumph on Sebastian's face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Will Schuester walked on stage. The audience quieted down.  
  
"So, that was our twenty students competing for the coveted Criss Colfer Purple Pageant Scholarship. Already, our scholarship has reached $45,000!"  
  
The audience applauded politely, and Will joined them, clapping from stage. Blaine heard Sebastian groan, and kicked him sharply in the ankle.  
  
"Now, while our distinguished celebrity judges deliberate..." Will motioned to the mezzanine. Blaine stood briefly. Sebastian waved halfheartedly from his seat. "...may I present for your enjoyment, by special request, our featured soloist..." Will paused for dramatic effect. "...Palomar College's one and only ever countertenor...Mr. Kurt Hummel!"  
  
Kurt walked onstage to light applause, extending a hand for Mr. Schuester to shake as they passed each other on stage.  
  
"So, how good is your boy Hummel?" Sebastian asked unenthusiastically.  
  
"He's probably amazing...he hasn't sung for me yet." Blaine's eyes never left the man preparing on stage.  
  
"You mean, you've never heard him sing?" Sebastian guffawed. "What if he sucks!?"  
  
Dave shot Sebastian a look of pure poison.  
  
"Friend of yours, Anderson?" Dave growled.  
  
Blaine shook his head.  
  
"No way," Blaine whispered. "I've never seen him before in my life."  
  


* * *

  
Kurt waited for the applause to die down, fingers laced together. He looked over the audience, eyes sweeping over the smiling students in the front row, then the rows and rows of patrons sitting, waiting for the night to end. Twenty individual singers, and then him. He felt sorry for these poor people. Their butts must be asleep.  
  
Kurt giggled nervously, and the audience went silent, waiting to be let in on the joke. Kurt raised his eyes to the mezzanine, focusing on where Blaine and, surprisingly enough, Dave sat, waiting for him to begin.  
  
"Hello." Kurt cleared his throat. "My name is Kurt Hummel, and tonight, I'm going to perform a song that I've loved since I was six, but...um... I think for the first time in my life I finally understand what it means."  
  
The music started, and Kurt's fidgeting ceased. He put his hands to his side, and looked longingly up toward the mezzanine. A single chord, played on the piano, held the curious attention of the crowd. Then another chased it, just as its predecessor dissolved into the air. Blaine watched Kurt take a deep breath, and Blaine held his.  
  
For a moment, Blaine doubted, but one look into Dave's face, already awash with wide-eyed wonder, wiped that doubt away. There was no way Sebastian could be right. Kurt had to be amazing. Everything he did was amazing.  
  
Blaine didn't know what he expected Kurt's singing voice to sound like, but for sure, he never expected this. Kurt opened his mouth, and the first few words flowed effortlessly into the air, like just a breath of summer, sweet and yielding. Even Sebastian sat up straighter in his seat as the notes rose to meet them.  
  
 _"Someone to hold you too close,_  
 _Someone to hurt you too deep,_  
 _Someone to sit in your chair,_  
 _to ruin your sleep..."_  
                          
A flute chimed in to meet him, but its impeccably clear tone was only a shadow of the beauty of his voice.  
  
 _"Someone to need you too much,_  
 _Someone to know you too well,_  
 _Someone to pull you up short,_  
 _to put you through hell..."_  
  
Slowly, more instruments joined in - a violin here, a supporting harmony from the piano - all performed flawlessly. Amazing as they sounded, they drifted away beneath the lyrical magic of Kurt Hummel, weaving his spell not only on Blaine and Dave, but the entire audience. From the first note he sang, everyone held their breath as one, not daring to disturb the magic, to lift the veil.  
  
 _"Someone you have to let in,_  
 _Someone whose feelings you spare,_  
 _Someone who, like it or not,_  
 _will want you to share,_  
 _a little, alot..."_  
  
There wasn't just perfection woven into the notes and the melody, but the whole package. Everything that was Kurt manifested itself in this one, perfect song. His voice, his stance, his fingers as they played over his own hands and then gestured through the air, the flutter of his eyelids, the emotion in his voice. Dave mouthed the words. He must have heard Kurt sing them a hundred times, but he looked as lost in dawning joy as everyone else.  
  
 _"Someone to crowd you with love,_  
 _Someone to force you to care,_  
 _Someone to make you come through, who'll always be there,_  
 _As frightened as you,_  
 _Of being alive, being alive, being alive,_  
 _Being alive..."_  
  
Blaine had seen a revival of _Company_ with his parents too many years ago, and he remembered this song. At the time, he hadn't bother to really pay attention to the words. Kurt's clear voice carried those words to him now, as if he and Blaine were sitting at a table, gazing into each others' eyes, and Kurt was singing them to Blaine alone. Kurt had chosen this song for him, Blaine realized. The words meant something. They brought images to Blaine's mind - some of them sweet, some of them heartbreaking.  
  
 _"Somebody hold me too close..."_  
(Blaine held him so hard against him, they were almost one person as they swayed and moved.)  
  
 _"Somebody hurt me too deep..."_  
("Like a prostitute...")  
  
 _"Somebody sit in my chair, and ruin my sleep..."_  
(The chair Kurt used in the mornings still sat out there, facing the ocean...)  
  
 _"And make me aware, of being alive...being alive..."_  
("I don't think I was seeing the world properly until I met you. There was no color...no taste...")  
  
 _"Somebody need me too much..."_  
("Be with me, Kurt... Completely. Make love to me. Let me see you. All of you.")  
  
 _"Somebody know me too well..."_  
(Behind Kurt's expressive eyes Blaine could see all of the pain...all of the heartbreak...)  
  
 _"Somebody pull me up short, and put me through hell..."_  
("I know I can't really ask you to make a commitment to me. Not with things the way they are...")  
  
 _"And give me support, for being alive..."_  
("You're still free, sweetheart. As free as you let yourself be...")  
  
 _"Make me alive, make me alive..."_  
("Kurt...maybe I'm being selfish, but this...this means everything to me.")  
  
On it went, as the song continued. Images and feelings hit Blaine like lightning, each bolt thrown by Kurt, each one trying to make Blaine realize that he had started something he had better be willing to finish.  
  
Blaine felt someone press something into his hand. He turned his head slightly to see Dave, tears rolling down his cheeks. Blaine looked at his palm and saw a tissue.  
  
"Thanks," he whispered brokenly. Dave nodded.  
  
The rest of the song played out for Blaine like a movie in his head, the movie of Kurt and Blaine. The music surged around him like a wave. Kurt, with his eyes burning up at him from the stage, had gone beyond just touching his heart and his body. Kurt had become a part of his soul. Now, he pleaded with Blaine, and the words belonged to him. They were written for him.  
  
In his mind, Blaine already said yes.  
  
 _"Somebody crowd me with love,_  
 _Somebody force me to care,_  
 _Somebody let me come through,_  
 _I'll always be there,_  
 _As frightened as you, to help us survive,_  
 _Being alive,_  
 _Being alive..."_  
  
Kurt's eyes swept the audience before his eyelids fluttered closed. For a moment, Kurt became one with the last few strains of music.  
  
 _"Being alive!"_  
  
Before he even finished singing the last note, the entire theater roared to life. People everywhere jumped to their feet, applauding and hollering.  
  
Kurt, with all the beauty and grace of a seasoned performer, bowed low, tears in his eyes. He waved up at the mezzanine, following it by blowing a kiss, and then turned to motion to the orchestra. When he saw them on their feet as well, applauding for him, he brought his hands to his face, trying to maintain his composure in the face of overwhelming praise.  
  
Dave turned to Blaine standing beside him, clapping with tears in his eyes. Blaine noticed Dave and faced him.  
  
"Thank you," Dave said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for doing this for him."  
  
Blaine didn't have any words for Dave, only a smile as broad and impassioned as Dave's own.  
  
Try as Kurt might, the applause would not die down. He bowed and bowed, but the entirety of the theater had fallen in love with Kurt Hummel. Mr. Schuester walked up on stage to pat Kurt on the back, and raised his hands to settle the audience.  
  
"I don't know, Kurt," the choir director said with his usual effervescent cheer. "It sounds like they want another one." He turned to the audience and addressed them directly.  
  
"Should we have him sing another one?"  
  
The audience applauded. More hooting and hollering could be heard, louder this time. No where was the cheering louder than from the two men in the mezzanine. Blaine and Dave cupped their hands over their mouths and cheered, while Sebastian rolled his eyes and looked off to the ceiling to count the sound proof tiles.  
  
"Okay, I'm going to need a little help here." Kurt clapped his hands in front of him and looked at the students seated in the first two rows of the audience. "Bethany, Ashley, Mercedes...could you come up here please?" Kurt waved the three women onto the stage.  
  
"I had my swans on stand by," Kurt said in an affected, Hugh Jackman-esque accent. The crowd laughed as the women made their way back on stage, smiling and waving. Kurt gestured in their direction, and the audience responded, applauding enthusiastically as they took positions behind Kurt.  
  
"Now, to sing this song properly, I should be wearing gold pants," Kurt said, running his hands down the front of his velvet clad thighs. Blaine couldn't take his eyes off his hands as they caressed his own legs. "But I think these will do."  
  
Kurt nodded to the conductor, who raised his arms, taking his cue from the countertenor who had so easily taken charge. Kurt was in his element, slipping back into the persona of performer, diva, rising star.  
  
Again, the music began, and Kurt's magic extended once more over the audience. This song bounced through the theater, piano and drum joining together. When the rhythm hit Kurt, he fixed the audience with playful and somewhat seductive eyes. He shifted his hips in time to the beat, and those eyes flicked up to the mezzanine. Blaine sat up, bolt straight in his seat, and blushed.  
   
Dave chuckled.  
  
 _"Coming home used to feel so good,_  
 _I'm a stranger now in my neighborhood,_  
 _I've seen the world at a faster pace,_  
 _and I'm coming now from a different place._  
  
 _Though I may look the same way to you,_  
 _Underneath there is somebody new."_  
  
Kurt did something then that had everyone on their feet. He climbed up to stand on the piano as he hit the chorus, and the audience gave him a standing ovation.  
  
 _"I am not,_  
 _the boy next door,_  
 _I don't belong_  
 _like I did before._  
 _Nothing ever seems like it used to be,_  
 _you can have your dreams, but you can't have me..._  
 _Oh, I can't come back there anymore,_  
 _Cuz I am not, the boy next door..."_  
  
Kurt had the whole audience captivated. Blaine was amazed. Just when he thought he had Kurt figured out, he pulled out something new to stun Blaine with. Here it was. His voice. His body. The way he controlled the crowd. The way he moved, so comfortable in his own skin. The way he moved his hips...Blaine's mouth dropped. This was Kurt, the fiery black swan, not commanding respect with handcuffs and a riding crop, but with the entirety of his being.  
  
 _"You've been saving those souvenirs,_  
 _faded photographs from our foolish years._  
 _We made plans, but they're wearing thin,_  
 _and they don't work out, cuz I don't fit in._  
 _And those memories will just wear you down,_  
 _Cuz I got no place to keep 'em uptown..."_  
  
"How did he not get onto _Sing_?" Blaine remarked. Blaine imagined Kurt playing his onscreen boyfriend - the two of them singing to each other, flirting over coffee, standing side by side in the season finale as Blaine asked for his hand in marriage. Blaine took a silent moment to thank whoever had been watching over him his entire life for the numerous opportunities he had been given, because watching Kurt - his kind, beautiful, compassionate Kurt, owning this song and that stage - Blaine realized that Kurt probably deserved all of that more than he did.  
  
 _"I am not,_  
 _the boy next door,_  
 _I don't belong_  
 _like I did before._  
 _Nothing ever seems like it used to be,_  
 _you can have your dreams, but you can't have me..._  
 _Oh, I can't come back there anymore,_  
 _Cuz I am not, the boy next door..."_  
  
The women in the background smiled ridiculously as they tried hard to sing their parts while quite openly watching Kurt dance around the stage and sing. Numerous times, members of the audience rose to their feet to applaud, once in particular during another daunting sustained high note.  
  
Blaine didn't want it to be over. He wanted to watch Kurt sing all night. He wanted to know more about his angel and what he could do. Another part of him couldn't wait to have Kurt in his arms again.  
  
 _"Nothing ever seems like it used to be,_  
 _you can have your dreams, oh! But you can't have me..._  
 _I can't go back there anymore,_  
 _Cuz I am not..._  
 _I am not..."_  
  
Kurt approached the edge of the stage, his skin glowing with a slight sheen of sweat, arms thrown wide for the finale, his eyes glued up to the mezzanine as they had been for most of the performance.  
  
 _"I am not..._  
 _The boy next door!"_  
  
That impossibly high note hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, with the violins fighting to keep up.  
  
The remaining audience members who weren't already standing leapt to their feet. The din in the auditorium rose around the mezzanine, and Blaine could not stop smiling. He put a hand on Dave's shoulder.  
  
"You should go down there and give him his roses before they make him sing another one," Blaine laughed.  
  
Dave wiped happy tears on his sleeve and nodded. He grabbed the bouquet and turned to leave. He took one last looked back over at Blaine.  
  
"Are you coming?" he asked. Blaine looked up into Dave's eyes. For a moment, Blaine didn't know how to respond.  
  
"Not just yet," Blaine said. "You have to leave soon. I think you guys should get a private moment."  
  
Dave smiled, and nodded his head in thanks, before turning and making his way out of the mezzanine.  
  
"So, you're sharing him?" Sebastian looked evilly amused.  
  
"Don't," Blaine said with confident finality. Blaine knew Kurt's feelings about Dave...and about himself.  
  
 _'That's because I_ am _yours.'_  
  
Kurt had marked Blaine with his lips, and Blaine had marked Kurt with his scent. It was almost animal how the two had become wrapped up in each other. Blaine would fight tooth and nail before he let that go.  
  
Blaine watched as Dave emerged in the lower level of the theater. Kurt saw him from the stage and bounded down the steps, accepting the bouquet of roses, and allowing himself to be drawn into Dave's embrace.  
  
"So, you're going to take on his whole family - that cuckold clown down there and all those kids?"  
  
Sebastian thought he had gotten the upper hand for sure, but Blaine faced him with determined eyes and said, "Yes. Yes, I am."  
  
Blaine leaned forward, pressing in on Sebastian, eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"And don't _ever_ call Dave that again."  
  



	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last scene having to do with the competition. Warnings for foul language, D/S situations, masturbation, bondage, and some really dirty sex.

Several people came up to congratulate Kurt after Dave left. Blaine waited patiently until the majority of the crowd dispersed, sitting in the mezzanine with a sulking Sebastian.  
  
Sebastian didn't speak to him. Sebastian didn't look at him.  
  
Sebastian's open disdain was fine by Blaine.  
  
Blaine saw Kurt disappear into the lobby and got out of his seat to go meet him, but moments later Kurt bounded through the door to the mezzanine, put his roses down, and threw himself into Blaine's barely outstretched arms.  
  
If all of the kisses they had shared before were amazing, incredible, or even mind-blowing, this one, full of breathless passion and unrestrained joy, could only be described as epic. Kurt couldn't stop kissing Blaine, even if he wanted to. He pressed his body against Blaine, and Blaine could feel Kurt's very evident desire pressing into his thigh. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, threading fingers up into his hair, the other kneading his ass. He couldn't help it. Those pants on Kurt's body were irresistible.  
  
"You were amazing," Blaine managed between kisses.  
  
"Was there ever any doubt?" Kurt joked.  
  
Blaine pulled away from Kurt to look into his eyes, eyes that laughed, and smiled, and sang with joy.  
  
"Never," Blaine said.  
  
Blaine kissed him again, reigniting the magic of the evening. When Blaine released him from the kiss, Kurt smiled, his cheeks an attractive rosy pink. Blaine leaned in to kiss him again.  
  
"What do we do now?" Blaine asked, hoping that 'fuck' made it on the list of viable answers.  
  
"Well..." Kurt  kissed Blaine's cheek, then along his jawline, his lips traveling down his neck. "I take you downstairs, we have the auction, and then the mayor announces the winner of the scholarship competition. Oh, yeah..."  
  
Kurt reached behind him to grab something out of his back pocket. He handed Blaine a small envelope and a blank card.  
  
"You have to write the name of the winner on this. Then we seal it and take it downstairs."  
  
Blaine took the card and looked over at Sebastian.  
  
"Do you want to discuss this?" Blaine asked blankly.  
  
Sebastian looked at Blaine, his expression incredulous, his voice acerbic.  
  
"Yeah." He stood up and brushed passed them. "I pick the chick in the purple."  
  
Sebastian made his way through the aisle and walked out the door. Blaine rolled his eyes. He leaned over the table, and wrote a name on the card. Then he put it in the envelope and sealed it shut. He handed it back to Kurt with a flourish. Kurt plucked it out of his grasp.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Anderson," Kurt cooed.  
  
Blaine grabbed him, hand firmly seated on the ass of Kurt's pants, and pulled him roughly against himself.  
  
"I love it when you call me Mr. Anderson," Blaine said, lips mere inches away from Kurt's tempting mouth.  
  
"Do you, _Mr. Anderson_?" Kurt slowly licked over Blaine's lips. Blaine spun Kurt around, pressing his cock up against Kurt's ass, pushing hard so Kurt could gauge the full weight of Blaine's arousal.  
  
"You fucking tease," Blaine growled. "Do you feel what you do to me?" Blaine rutted against Kurt, and he rolled his head back to rest on Blaine's shoulder. "Why do you have to be so Goddamned perfect?"  
  
"I'm not perfect," Kurt said sadly. Blaine held him by his upper arms, breathing him in to steady his need.  
  
"You are to me, Kurt." Blaine kissed Kurt's neck gently, punctuating his words. "You're strong, and beautiful, and talented, and so completely perfect."  
  
"Well, Mr. Anderson," Kurt whispered, voice shuddering. "I told you if you bought me, you could have me on my knees, so don't we have an auction to get to?"  
  


* * *

  
  
The auction was already in full swing by the time Kurt and Blaine made an appearance. As soon as Mr. Schuester eyed Kurt, he motioned to him urgently. Kurt handed Blaine his bouquet for safe keeping, and hurried away to the make-shift stage.  
  
"Stand right up here, Kurt." Will pulled Kurt up to stand beside him. "Let everyone see you."  
  
Kurt kept his eyes glued to Blaine's face as the last few singers were auctioned off.  
  
"Last but certainly not least, our final artist up for auction this evening, our featured soloist, Mr. Kurt Hummel."  
  
The crowd applauded and cheered as Kurt stepped up, posing comically. Kurt bowed to the group of interested buyers who gathered immediately to bid.  
  
"Since Mr. Hummel is our featured soloist, we will be starting the bidding at...."  
  
Before the opening bid could even be announced, an older man in the audience raised his hand and bid $100.  
  
'Ooo's and 'aaah's rose from the crowd. Kurt rolled his eyes, but smiled even wider. Opening bids usually started at around $50.  
  
He was so beautiful, Blaine thought. Blaine couldn't help but admire his poise and ease up on that stage, as people began calling out dollar amounts quicker than the auctioneer could keep up. The bidding started to slow around the $1,000 mark, and Kurt beamed. Obviously, this was some sort of record. Blaine could hear other people murmur around him. Apparently, the highest selling performer tonight went for $375.  
  
"We have a bid of $1,000 going once...going twice..."  
  
Always the actor and never one to be outdone, Blaine waited till the last possible moment to place his bid.  
  
"$20,000," Blaine called, raising his arm.  
  
The room went silent. The smile on Kurt's face turned to something like astonishment.  
  
"Twenty...twenty-THOUSAND dollars!?" the auctioneer said in awe. Blaine was almost afraid to look back at Kurt, but when he did, he saw warmth...gratitude...and a certain simmering heat that told Blaine he was soon to become a very lucky man.  
  
Right then something rather unexpected happened.  
  
"$25,000," came a voice from behind Blaine. Blaine didn't have to turn to know who the voice belonged to.  
  
Sebastian smirked at Blaine, hand raised as he called out his exorbitant bid.  
  
"Twenty-five thousand!?" The auctioneer, an older gentleman with greying hair, looked as though he was about to have a heart attack.  
  
"Sebastian," Blaine hissed, "what are you doing?"  
  
"Bidding...helping a worthy cause," Sebastian said with a sly grin. "Besides," he whispered so only Blaine could hear, "I want to get him alone so I can see what all the fuss is about...maybe I can make him sing for me..."  
  
Blaine became hot. Red hot. He had never been angrier at his co-star than he was at that moment.  
  
"$25,000...going once...going twice..."  
  
"$30,000," Blaine announced, not looking back at the stage.  
  
"$35,000." Sebastian winked at Kurt. Kurt shuddered.  
  
"$40,000!" Blaine walked toward the stage.  
  
"$50,000!!" Sebastian followed close on his heels.  
  
Blaine and Sebastian turned and glared at each other. The room had gone silent. Kurt, red faced and sweating, stared between them. The last bid was Sebastian's. 'Please, God,' Kurt prayed. 'Don't let Blaine get sidetracked and accidentally let Sebastian win.'  
  
Kurt could see Blaine calculating in his head.  
  
"$150,000," Blaine said, with that note of finality in his voice that made the taller, usually more confident man, back down with a grimace. Blaine knew he had Sebastian. There was no way Sebastian would spend that kind of money. From the stage, a slightly trembling Kurt squeaked.  
  
The auctioneer, jaw almost to the ground, turned to look at Sebastian who eyed the spectators warily, then turned to Blaine, and bowed graciously.  
  
"Congratulations," he said to Blaine. "That's a little rich for my blood."  
  
"Once, twice, SOLD!" the auctioneer said, and even before he could finish his sentence, a peal of thunderous applause came up from the audience. "Our featured soloist, Kurt Hummel, sold to celebrity judge Blaine Anderson for $150,000!!"  
  
Kurt couldn't move. The auctioneer put a light hand on his back, and Kurt rushed to gain his composure. He was aware of all eyes on him as he stepped from the stage to rejoin Blaine. Kurt's eyes were wide, his expression blank.  
  
"It seems like you're always buying me," Kurt said.  
  
"Actually, this time it was symbolic." Blaine handed Kurt back the roses.  
  
"And what does that mean?" Kurt asked. He felt like he should be angry. Blaine made a spectacle of him.  
  
"I bought you," Blaine said, leaning in close to Kurt, "in the hopes that no one else would ever have to buy you again."  
  
Kurt blushed, looking down at the roses in his arms and sniffing them.  
  
"Besides..." Blaine put his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "It was also kind of a gift. I wanted to do something good with my money."  
  
"And what was that?"  
  
Blaine answered by turning him back to the stage.  
  
"I would like to end tonight by announcing the recipient of this year's Criss Colfer Scholarship - at a staggering $200,000...Ms. Bethany Philips!"  
  
Another peal of applause followed the woman, eyes filled with tears as she stepped up on stage to receive her award and a bouquet of roses.  
  
Blaine looked to Kurt, who had tears in his eyes, his hand pressed over his mouth. Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt's shoulder.  
  
"I should have brought you flowers," Blaine whispered delicately in Kurt's ear. Kurt turned, his eyes questioning. Blaine sighed.  
  
"Dave brought you those beautiful flowers. Lavender..." Blaine chuckled once, sadly. "...it means 'love at first sight'. He knows who he is, and what he wants, and he's not afraid to show every one else. I should have brought you flowers. I should have done the same."  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"I love Dave's flowers," Kurt said. Blaine looked down at his shoes as he scuffed the floor. "But, you gave me something, too." Blaine looked up into Kurt's watery smile. "You did this..." Kurt gestured to the stage, where Bethany was posing for pictures. "I sang on stage tonight because of you." Kurt raised a hand to cup Blaine's cheek. "You gave me hope. You gave me your time. You gave me you. I didn't want anything else."  
  
No one was watching as Blaine carefully took Kurt's hand in his. No one saw as Blaine brought it to his lips and kissed it. No one paid any attention when Blaine wrapped Kurt in his arms and held him tight.  
  
Almost no one saw.  
  
Sebastian Smythe stood in the far corner of the lobby and seethed.  
  
Blaine leaned into Kurt's ear.  
  
"I want you," Blaine whispered. "Now." He put his hands on Kurt's hips and squeezed insistently.  
  
"Well, you did win me," Kurt purred, "and I did say that would get me on my knees."  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
"Do you know of any place? Unfortunately, I came down here in a Prius."  
  
Kurt laughed. He grabbed Blaine's hand.  
  
"Follow me."  
  
Kurt weeded through the crowd of spectators, watching for a moment as Bethany had her picture taken for the paper.  
  
Kurt led Blaine through a service access door, and down a long flight of steps. They followed the staircase to the bottom. The lower levels of the performing arts center wound around like a gigantic labyrinth. Blaine didn't know how Kurt had any idea where they were going, but any moment he expected a man in a cloak and a half mask to jump out at them and take Kurt to the catacombs.  
  
Were there even catacombs in California?  
  
Kurt seemed to make a bee line for a heavy metal door. He pulled it open and pushed Blaine through. The room was pitch black after the heavy door slammed shut, echoing loudly. He could hear Kurt flipping switches. The room was bathed in a soft white light that changed the ambiant pitch black to a soft grey. Blaine saw chairs stacked against one corner, tables sandwiched together in another corner, and three walls made completely of mirrors.  
  
"What is this place?" Blaine asked.  
  
"It's one of the older dance rooms," Kurt explained, putting his roses on the floor. "They only use it for storage now."  
  
Kurt locked the door and threw the bolt.  
  
"There. Now, even if someone had the key, they couldn't get in."  
  
Kurt walked along the wall to another panel of switches. He turned on a center spotlight, which left a circle of light. Kurt set a chair in the center of the light, facing the mirror. Kurt looked at a confused Blaine and gestured toward the chair, a strange mischievous glow in his eyes.  
  
Blaine approached Kurt slowly, enjoying the anticipation of playing right into this brilliant man's plan. Blaine sat in the chair, staring up at Kurt. Kurt straddled Blaine's lap, pushing his erection up against Blaine's crotch, hearing him moan as Kurt rutted against him slowly. Kurt kissed Blaine, hard and dirty, grabbing his arms roughly and shoving them behind the back of the chair. Kurt took a single stocking and tied Blaine's wrists together.  
  
"W-were you carrying that with you the whole time?" Blaine moaned against Kurt's mouth.  
  
"Yup." Kurt smiled and bit Blaine's lip. Kurt slowly unbuttoned Blaine's shirt, trailing his fingertips over his exposed skin. He tugged the shirt out of Blaine's pants and left it open, exposing Blaine's toned, tan chest. Kurt latched onto Blaine's neck with his teeth, tormenting that same spot he had bitten early. The sore skin tingled beneath Kurt's mouth. Blaine writhed beneath him, bucking his hips up, trying to seek out friction. Kurt pinched Blaine's nipples hard between his fingers, and Blaine groaned loudly. The sound reverberated off the wall.  
  
"Moan as loud as you want, princess," Kurt whispered. "This room in sound proof. No one's going to hear you."  
  
Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
_'Princess?'_ Blaine thought. _'Shit! What did I do wrong?'_  
  
The change in Kurt from blushing angel to fiery black swan occured so quickly, Blaine almost got whiplash.  
  
Kurt scratched down Blaine's chest with his nails, leaving jagged trails in their wake.  
  
"God, Kurt," Blaine groaned, hissing with the pain, his cock growing harder in the confines of his pants.  
  
"You didn't think you weren't going to get punished for this little stunt, did you?" Kurt's icy voice took Blaine by surprise.  
  
"What stunt?" Blaine asked. "I don't..."  
  
Kurt slapped Blaine across the face, harder than Blaine expected. When his vision cleared, he saw Kurt biting his lip, tears in his eyes.  
  
"No one gave you permission to speak," Kurt growled. "I told you that if you heard me sing, you'd know everything about me," Kurt ground out through clenched teeth, "and you wouldn't come back."  
  
"Kurt, I..."  
  
_Smack._  
  
Blaine's cheek stung. He looked back into Kurt's face. Kurt...his poor Kurt...looked frantic, wild. He wasn't really hurting Blaine. In fact, Blaine was so hard, he was afraid one more slap with Kurt straddling his lap would make him cum ridiculously quick.  
  
For some reason Kurt's Dominatrix went into overdrive. The night had gone amazing. Blaine couldn't imagine what had gone wrong. He knew Kurt wouldn't listen to Blaine unless he submit. Blaine bowed his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. Kurt noticed the change. He ran his nails down Blaine's chest one more time...deeper...painfully. Blaine didn't flinch, didn't cry out. Kurt pulled Blaine's face by his mass of curls to meet his eyes. Blaine's eyes were closed, his face calm. Kurt kissed him, forcefully and aggressively attacking Blaine's lips, biting and nipping around the contours of his mouth.  
  
"Why'd you do it, Blaine?" Kurt whimpered. "Now there's no reason for you to come back."  
  
Kurt dropped his head to Blaine's shoulder.  
  
"Talk to me, Blaine," Kurt whispered.  
  
Blaine stayed silent, patiently waiting. Kurt sighed.  
  
"You may respond." Kurt curled against Blaine's bound form.  
  
"Do you think you can get rid of me that easily?" Blaine whispered.  
  
Kurt didn't move.  
  
"I need you, Kurt," Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt's silhouette nestled against his shoulder. "You're in my blood. You _are_ my soul. I told you I love you, and I meant it."  
  
Kurt looked down at Blaine through teary eyes. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Blaine. Nose to nose, Kurt kissed Blaine slowly. He rested his hands against Blaine's chest, and felt Blaine take in a quick breath. Kurt looked down at Blaine's skin, and his eyes went wide.  
  
"Oh, God, Blaine." Kurt gasped at the angry red marks. "Blaine, I'm so---"  
  
Blaine surged up and swallowed Kurt's apology, took him in and absolved him.  
  
"I love you, Kurt," he murmured softly as his tongue gently explored Kurt's mouth, tasting a few salty tears that had escaped Kurt's eyes. "I love you, I love you, I love everything about you...I love you, my angel...I love you, my black swan..."  
  
Kurt sighed against Blaine's lips.  
  
"Let me make it up to you," Kurt whispered.  
  
Blaine smiled, kissing the corner of Kurt's mouth.  
  
"On your knees?" Blaine asked hopefully.  
  
Kurt smirked.  
  
"Not just yet." Kurt reached down and pulled off his shoes and socks. "I'm a performer at heart." Kurt started unbuttoning his own shirt, one button at a time. "And this show isn't over." Blaine watched his nimble fingers slip the buttons through the holes one by one down, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric to run lightly over his chest. Kurt pulled the fabric carefully from where it tucked into his pants. He let the material fall back and pool around his elbows. Kurt stood, reaching a hand into Blaine's curls and pulling his head forward against his chest.  
  
Blaine didn't need to be asked. He slipped his tongue over Kurt's nipple, licking in smooth circles over the tight nub. Kurt rolled his head on his shoulders, his moans echoing around the room.  
  
"Like that?" Blaine asked quickly, but he already knew the answer.  
  
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt moaned, hands fisting Blaine's curls tight, then releasing them to grab them again roughly. "That tongue of yours...I have dreams about that tongue on my body."  
  
"Really?" Blaine teased, blowing cold air over the wet tracks, feeling Kurt tremble. "Do you masturbate to dreams of my tongue?"  
  
Kurt giggled.  
  
"All the time, Mr. Anderson."  
  
Blaine nudged his nose against Kurt's chest, prompting Kurt to shift slightly so he could lavish attention on the other nipple. Kurt leaned his body against Blaine, and Blaine could feel Kurt's arousal pressing against him through the fabric of those purple velvet pants.  
  
"Kurt...beautiful." Blaine hummed against Kurt's skin. "I need to see you...all of you."  
  
Kurt pushed off Blaine's lap, stepping back a few paces till his back touched the mirror. He leaned his bare shoulders back on the slick surface, letting the fabric of his shirt slide down his arms, catching it in his hands before the garment hit the floor. He draped it carefully over another nearby chair. Positioned against the glass mirror, his back arched, his eyes closed, he slowly unfastened his pants. Blaine moaned at the view of Kurt on display for him. Kurt slowly undid the zipper, pushing the fabric down over his hips, and Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
"Oh, God, Kurt," Blaine moaned, bucking his hips up involuntarily at the sight. "No underwear?"  
  
"Not in these pants," Kurt pulled the pants over his muscular thighs, and down his firm calves, bending at the waist almost completely in half to step out of them and hang them over the chair as well. The view in front of Blaine was stunning, but the view from behind - the reflection in the mirror of Kurt's toned back, that gorgeous tattoo, his taut ass, and the tiny glimpse of Kurt's tight hole when he bent over - almost did Blaine in. Kurt stood, marvelously naked, head resting against the mirror again. He took his length in his hand and stroked lazily, making no effort to bring himself to orgasm, just enjoying the feeling of his own hand against his bare skin.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine tried desperately to move, to undo the binds on his wrist and get to Kurt, take him in his arms, seduce him properly.  
  
"Hmmm?" Kurt barely acknowledge Blaine's breathy voice, though inside his mind, his inner Dominatrix was already on his knees.  
  
"Come here and show me all the places you want my tongue." Blaine tried to make his voice sound confident, commanding, but the sub in him couldn't do it, couldn't command this force of nature.  
  
Kurt opened his eyes, shimmering like dark glass in the low light. Kurt pushed himself off the glass, slinking towards Blaine with long strides and purposeful steps, cock still firmly in hand. Blaine watched the play of Kurt's muscles beneath his skin, licking his lips at the thought of all the places Blaine would like to explore with his tongue, all the places left to map, seek out all the tiny, undiscovered spots that might make Kurt squirm.  
  
Kurt stood before Blaine, so strong, so confident, that deliciously hard cock a mere few feet from Blaine's twitching lips. He wasn't sure how much more he could stand of not touching him, not feeling him against his skin. He would just about beg Kurt to scratch him again if it meant having that hard, naked body pressed against him.  
  
Kurt's eyes twinkled as he brought a finger to his lips, slipping his tongue around it till it glistened.  
  
"Well, of course, you start here..." Kurt traced the outline of his lips, his tongue sneaking out a few more times to lap over his pale finger with the barest hint of a suggestion. "You could stay here forever..." Kurt traced over his own smile, "because you happen to be an amazing kisser."  
  
Blaine swallowed, fascinated as Kurt touched himself and lavished his sub with praise. Kurt's fingers began to move, tracing a line along his jaw and slowly down his neck, stopping for a moment to circle a spot below his ear. Blaine knew that spot well, had it set to memory so that even in the dark with his eyes closed he could find it. He watched Kurt's cock twitch in his now loose grip as he circled that spot over and over, licking his lips and gasping.  
  
"You found that spot all on your own," Kurt whispered. "No one else seemed to know it was there."  
  
Blaine held his breath. His lips tingled, his tongue ached, dying to taste Kurt's skin. Kurt dipped his finger in his mouth again, continuing the trail down his neck, over the hollow of his collarbone, sliding across his chest and toying with his nipples, circling over them one at a time, biting his lower lip against a groan as he stroked himself slowly one more time.  
  
Blaine's struggle to maintain his own composure was not going well. He pulled his knees together tight, trying to quell the pulsing need to rut up against the inside of his pants and search for any kind of contact.  
  
"This," Kurt said, continuing the small circles, alternating from one nipple to the other, " goes straight to my dick." Kurt was unashamed, stroking a little less casually, a little more goal oriented. Blaine whimpered.  
  
Kurt splayed his fingers out over his chest as his hand traveled over his abdomen, to join his other hand cupping his cock. He smirked.  
  
"Obviously..." he drawled. Blaine laughed.  
  
Kurt let his fingers dance playfully over his own balls, giggling at what must have been a tickling sensation. Blaine longed to replace Kurt's hand with his own...or his tongue...or anything at this point. But Kurt was long from done, Blaine knew.  
  
Blaine didn't expect Kurt to turn away from him and bend over. Kurt sucked his finger into his mouth again, and drew erratic circles around his ankles. Kurt actually moaned, and Blaine, sweating slightly in the cool room, stored that piece of knowledge away. Kurt's fingers moved up behind his legs to the backs of his knees, and Kurt's knees bent as the skin tingled beneath his fingertips. Up his thighs they continued and Blaine prayed that they would end up where he hoped they were going.  
  
Blaine sucked in a deep breath as he watched Kurt's fingers circle his entrance.  
  
"Oh, God," Blaine moaned for about the eighteenth time.  
  
"Oh, Blaine..." Kurt's prolonged moan as he massaged the tight ring of muscle with his own wet finger shot straight to Blaine's cock. Blaine was going to cum, he knew it. He had already been on the edge after Kurt slapped him for the second time, but now, this sublime torment was just too much. "Blaine, I have imagined your tongue here so many times."  
  
"Really?" Blaine squirmed, pulling at his wrists, knowing it was fruitless. He tightened the bonds in hopes that the material biting into his skin would keep him from cumming before he could feel Kurt's mouth working over him.  
  
"Oh, God, yes." Kurt's beautiful high voice sang with his own pleasure as he slowly slipped a finger into that puckered ring of muscle, and Blaine watched it disappear to the first knuckle, than the second, and finally the last. Blaine saw Kurt's legs quiver and knew exactly where Kurt's finger had ended. Kurt started moving his finger in and out, steadily fucking himself on his own finger. Blaine made to stand up, the chair dragging him back and making a loud noise as it slammed back down on the floor.  
  
Kurt heard the noise and wrenched his head around to see a struggling Blaine, panting, his pupils blown wide as his eyes focused on Kurt finger fucking his own hole.  
  
"Kurt," Blaine whined. "Please, don't do this to me again. Please..."  
  
"What do you want, sweetheart?" Kurt didn't stand up, didn't stop, just stared into Blaine's overwrought eyes.  
  
_'Sweetheart!'_ Blaine cheered to himself. _'Yes!'_  
  
"I need you...your mouth...on me, Kurt."  
  
Kurt made no move to stand, just kept moving his finger in and out...in and out...  
  
"Kurt!" Blaine barked, struggling again. "Please!"  
  
Kurt stood, retracting his finger and kneeled between Blaine's legs. He undid Blaine's pants quickly, Blaine fumbling to stand slightly so Kurt could pull his pants down, which Kurt did, but just the barest amount.  
  
"I'm not going to let you come this way." Kurt's warm breath tickled Blaine's skin as he grabbed for his achingly hard cock. "I reserve that pleasure for my ass."  
  
"Oh God yes," Blaine yelled into the closed confines of the room as Kurt swallowed him whole, tasting Blaine delicately with light swipes of his tongue across the slit, Blaine begging with shallow thrusts of his hips for Kurt to let him fuck his mouth.  
  
Kurt pinned Blaine's hip to the chair.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Anderson." Kurt climbed back into Blaine's lap, kneeling onto Blaine's thighs. "You made me cut that short."  
  
Blaine threw his head back and groaned in frustration - sweet, painful frustration.  
  
"Too bad we don't have any ice to cool you down," Kurt purred. "I think I know exactly where I'd put it."  
  
Blaine could smell his Atlas cologne much stronger now. He leaned his head against Kurt's chest and inhaled deeply.  
  
"I noticed you found my cologne." Blaine felt Kurt's heat all around him.  
  
"Mr. Anderson!" Kurt mocked, sounding scandalized. "Are you telling me that you're such a narcissist that your own scent turns you on?"  
  
Kurt started moving his hips up and down, swiveling provocatively, rutting smoothly against Blaine's damaged skin.  
  
"On you, it smells different." Blaine wanted to squirm, but he was too afraid of tipping Kurt off his lap. So, he relaxed into Kurt's movements, let Kurt use him, play with him, but the closer Kurt's cock came to Blaine's face, the stronger to tangy smell of cedar became.  
  
"Well, so you know," Kurt whispered. "I put a drop of it pretty much every where."  
  
That was it. That one comment tipped the scales, and Blaine tumbled into the deep. Blaine pulled his wrists tight and managed to find some sharp ridge jutting out of the metal on the chair. It scored the stocking binding his wrists in two.  
  
He grabbed Kurt roughly, putting a hand behind Kurt's neck and pulling him to meet his lips, kissing Kurt, biting his lip, another hand fishing through his own pants pocket to locate a condom and a tall, thin bottle of lube. He took the two items and shoved them urgently into Kurt's hand. Kurt smiled against Blaine's dirty kiss.  
  
"Fucking Boy Scout, aren't you?" Kurt laughed darkly. "Always come prepared?"  
  
"If I want to cum with you, I'd better be prepared." Blaine's hand reached back for the condom, tearing the foil wrapper and rolling it onto his own erection. Then grabbing the lube, he squirted a dollop into his own palm, and spread it liberally over his covered cock. He made moves to pull off his pants, but Kurt stopped him.  
  
"No," Kurt said. "Keep your clothes on."  
  
Blaine smiled, showing perfect white teeth. He lifted Kurt off his lap, settling Kurt down over his cock, facing away from him, waiting while Kurt slipped smoothly over his erection. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips, moving slowly up into Kurt, but Kurt wouldn't have it. He slammed down on Blaine's cock, listening as Blaine screamed, hs entire body overwhelmed by the tight squeeze.  
  
"Harder," Kurt demanded. "Faster."  
  
"I want to take you to the floor." Blaine bit into Kurt's shoulder. Kurt arched back against Blaine's mouth. "I want you on your knees."  
  
"Do it." Kurt groaned. Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist, keeping them connected as he slipped off the chair and onto the floor. As soon a Blaine's knees touched the ground, he pounded into Kurt, digging his fingers into Kurt's hips and punishing him with the drive of his thrusts. Blaine watched Kurt's reflection in the mirror with ecstatic awe. Kurt smiled, sighing contentedly, rolling his shoulders and lolling his head. Subconsciously Blaine had tried his hand at putting Kurt through his paces, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, but the enjoyment on Kurt's face was a different type of triumph altogether. Kurt looked relaxed, at ease, as if pleasure from Blaine's relentless pounding was simply rolling through him, washing over him, and Blaine realized Kurt was still very much in control.  
  
Kurt looked up into the mirror, catching Blaine's surprised expression as Blaine continued to gaze at his own reflection.  
  
"That's it, sweetheart," Kurt encouraged. "Look at yourself. Watch yourself own my body. Look at how strong you are. Watch yourself move."  
  
There it was - his beautiful Dom praising him, urging him, making him feel beautiful, desired, loved.  
  
"Look at you take control, Blaine," Kurt purred. "Look at you. Don't you think you would make an excellent dominator, Blaine?"  
  
Kurt's praise overwhelmed Blaine. Had he not already been so close for so long, he could have listened to Kurt talk forever - that silky voice washing provocatively over his ego. He didn't want to cum without Kurt...so he took a risk. He brought a hand back tentatively and spanked Kurt. Kurt's eyes went wide with shock. Blaine felt Kurt clench around him and an addiction was born...but not without Kurt's permission...never without Kurt's permission.  
  
Kurt's face flushed with shock, but when the tingling began, Kurt couldn't get enough.  
  
"Again, Blaine!" Kurt commanded.  
  
Blaine was helpless to deny Kurt this pleasure. He swung again, hitting him squarely in the same spot, feeling the familiar pull around his cock. Kurt's back arched.  
  
"Again!" he yelled. "The other side. Harder!"  
  
Blaine almost stopped pounding into Kurt, the sound of his commands almost immobilizing him. He felt himself stutter as his hand came down again on Kurt's pale flesh, coloring it red as his black swan bucked and pulsed around him.  
  
Then Kurt gave way to babbling of his own.  
  
"More, Blaine! God, Blaine! Harder, Blaine!"  
  
Blaine had never heard Kurt like this, his voice shadowed by a high pitched desperate whine of his own. Kurt wanted more, and Blaine tried hard, but he wasn't giving it to him. What he could give, Kurt took in spades, and then gave back a little of his own, fucking back on Blaine's cock. Kurt couldn't keep his eyes from Blaine's face as he spanked him, so unaccustomed to receiving punishment and seeing this new side to the man he loved. Blaine's abs tensed when he smacked Kurt, and Kurt knew he could feel the intense squeeze around his cock. Kurt knew it was only a matter of time.  
  
Kurt needed to cum, ever since he had slipped on those sinful pants he had been staving off an erection. Then he sat beside Blaine in the dark, and Blaine stared into him with those hungry eyes, teased him with playful fingers over his knees. Kurt held onto those sensations, those images, and blended them with the one he could see now, of Blaine, his Blaine, in the role of dominator, spanking Kurt and fucking him almost raw. Kurt bucked backward while Blaine stilled his hips, focusing on spanking Kurt, switching sides as Kurt had, with no rhyme or reason.  
  
Kurt laughed as he felt his body unwind.  
  
"Yes, Blaine!" His voice was foreign to his own ears as he begged for it, begged to be spanked. "That's it, Blaine. Spank me! Fuck me! Take me! Own me! Come on!!"  
  
Blaine was done. All at once his body vibrated and then shattered, fragmented like glass. His hand stung, his thighs burned, his knees screamed inside his jeans, and his blood was on fire. Blaine came, and just when he thought he was done, Kurt quivered and moaned, and screamed, screamed for Blaine. It was a sound he knew Kurt was holding back, one he wasn't going to give Blaine lightly. There it was, hanging in the air, and Blaine suddenly, unexpectedly came again.  
  
It slammed into him, almost blew him backward, but all of the breath in his body was gone in an instant, and without meaning to, he slipped out of Kurt and fell to the floor.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Blaine?" Gentle fingers touched his hair, running through his curls and massaging his scalp. "Blaine, sweetheart? You have to stop doing this. It can't be healthy."  
  
Blaine heard that angelic high pitched giggle as he slowly opened his eyes.  
  
"Did...did I...?" Blaine stuttered as he fought to sit up.  
  
"Pass out?" Kurt finished for him. "Yes, you did."  
  
Blaine looked around the room, putting a hand to his spinning head.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"Long enough for me to get you cleaned up and dressed." Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm and pulled him back to the chair, looking into Blaine's eyes with concern. "Seriously, I really think you need to talk to someone about this."  
  
Blaine's vision cleared as he regarded Kurt, dressed again in his performance clothes, looking spectacularly well put together considering.  
  
"You...you screamed for me." Blaine watched Kurt blush, looking down at his hands on Blaine's knees. "You...you let me dominate you."  
  
"Well..." Kurt bit his lips bashfully and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "...to be fair, I didn't let you dominate me entirely."  
  
"I know that," Blaine amended. "But, you said you weren't a switch."  
  
Kurt's eyes softened, looking at Blaine's honey and syrup colored eyes, then at his swollen lips, brusied from Kurt's harsh bites early.  
  
"I'm not..." Kurt whispered, looking at Blaine through the fan of his long lashes, "but I would be a switch for you. I'd do anything for you. Haven't I proven that yet?"  
  
Blaine nodded.  
  
"You have, Kurt," he said. "You have."  
  
Kurt produced their phones from his back pocket.  
  
"It seems people have been looking for us," Kurt said, handing Blaine his phone. "I have to go upstairs and shake a few hands. And I'm pretty sure Sebastian's pissed at you."  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes.  
  
"What else is new."  
  
Kurt stood and helped Blaine to his feet.  
  
"Wait, Kurt." Blaine pulled Kurt into his arms, looking into his eyes. "Would you do something else for me?"  
  
Kurt cocked his head, and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I know this might sound 8th grade, but...would you consider...being mine? My boyfried, I mean?"  
  
Kurt's eyes danced.  
  
"Are you going to pass me a note that says check this box for yes and this one for no?" Kurt teased. Blaine squeezed Kurt tight against him.  
  
"Let's just skip to the end where you tell me which box you checked?"  
  
Kurt kissed him gently, trying not to put too much pressure on Blaine's lips.  
  
"Yes," Kurt whispered. "I pick yes."  
  
Blaine hugged his angel, his beautiful black swan.  
  
"Please understand," Blaine said, "I can't...tell anyone right away." He expected Kurt to stiffen, to break away from his embrace, but Kurt just melted into him.  
  
"I know." Kurt rested his cheek against Blaine's shoulder. "We can wait, until you're ready."  
  


* * *

  
  
Blaine felt like they were always leaving small paradises behind. Kurt dragged Blaine back up the steps to the main level of the theater, where a sizable crowd still hung around, mingling, drinking, and enjoying hors d'oeuvres.  
  
"Kurt!" a shrill voice called to him as soon as they walked into the lobby. "Kurt, you have to come out here! The sponsors want to meet you!!"  
  
Kurt sighed.  
  
"Ahhh," he said, "the life of a local celebrity." He squeezed Blaine's hand and walked off. He suddenly put a hand to his forehead and turned.  
  
"Ugh! Could you grab my bag from the green room real quick before they lock it? It's down that hall..." Kurt pointed, "through the doors, first door on the left."  
  
Blaine nodded with a smile, and walked off, checking angry messages from Sebastian as he went in search of the room.  
  
Blaine found the green room. Kurt never told Blaine what his bag looked like, but there was only one bag in the room - a worn leather messenger bag with the initials 'KH' embroidered in gold on the front. Blaine erased another message on his phone, sending a text to Sebastian letting him know to hold his horses, that they would be leaving soon. Blaine didn't want to leave Kurt. He would have to invent some new reason to see him. He let his mind wander as he picked up the leather bag. The front flap opened, and a sketch book fell out. Blaine picked it up and started flipping through the pages. Blaine marveled at sketch after sketch of beautiful clothes, mostly for women.  
  
Then one sketch caught his attention. It was more carefully rendered than the rest of the sketches, erased over and over until the shoulders were perfectly squared and the seams were fitted correctly. Measurements were scribbled around the margins, and swatches of material stapled to the top of the page. Blaine knew he had stumbled on something important; most likely a suit Kurt had been working on for while. It looked exactly Kurt's style, and Blaine could just picture Kurt wearing it - the sumptuous fabric hugging his trim figure, the deep violet hue a perfect compliment to his incredible eyes.  
  
Blaine laid the drawing out carefully and photographed it with his phone. He took several photos of the sketch, making sure he got the measurements, the swatches, and all of the intricate details. He emailed the photos to himself immediately to insure their safety. Then he packed Kurt's sketchbook back into the bag and zippered it shut.

* * *

  
  
Blaine hated saying good-bye to Kurt, but the knowledge that they had made a commitment to each other, even if it was small and, for now, secret, soothed the sting a bit.  
  
Sebastian glared through the window of the tiny black car as Blaine and Kurt kissed good-bye for the hundredth time.  
  
"I'm sorry about this," Kurt said, ghosting his fingers over Blaine's chest, indicating the scratches beneath.  
  
"Don't be." Blaine captured Kurt's hand and held it to his heart. "You were right. I forced this on you. I didn't ask your permission. I was selfish. But I would have done it again a thousand times if it meant seeing the real you."  
  
Kurt blushed.  
  
Blaine put his hands on both sides of Kurt's face, and raised his eyes to meet his gaze.  
  
"Have faith, my love," Blaine whispered. "I believe in happy endings, don't you?"  
  
Kurt shook his head.  
  
"I'm trying." Kurt sighed. "Really, I am."  
  
Blaine kissed Kurt one final time, soft and slow and full of promises.  
  
"Good-night, my beautiful boyfriend," Blaine whispered.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes, a goofy smile blooming on his face.  
  
"Drive safe, my amazing boyfriend."  
  
Kurt watched Blaine climb into the car. He waved again, just a small wiggle of his fingers. Blaine blew him a kiss. Sebastian groaned and slumped down in his seat. The Prius pulled away. Kurt watched until it was an insignificant black dot in the distance before climbing in his own car and driving home.  
  
  


* * *

  
A thick cloud of tension surrounded Blaine as he drove back to Los Angeles with Sebastian reclining in the passenger seat. Sebastian stared at Blaine through the darkness, but Blaine refused to look at him.  
  
"All in all, that went well," Sebastian joked, playing with the buttons on the radio. Blaine reached over and switched the radio off. Sebastian sighed petulantly. He decided on a different tactic.  
  
"You need to relax, tiger," Sebastian purred. "I'm sure there are about a thousand no tell hotels between here and home. How about we find one, and...uh...relieve some of your stress?"  
  
Blaine shook his head with a humorless laugh.  
  
"Uh, no," Blaine said, gripping the steering wheel so he wouldn't launch over the emergency brake and throttle Sebastian. The thought of touching Sebastian, or Sebastian touching him, made him sick to his stomach. Even more sickening was the idea of what Sebastian might have tried to do had he actually won Kurt in the auction. Blaine shook his head to erase the thought. "I don't even know why you're here."  
  
"Hey, you invited me to come with you, remember?" Sebastian said, putting a hand on Blaine's knee. Blaine huffed a breath in frustration. He grabbed Sebastian's hand and tossed it away.  
  
"Yeah," Blaine huffed with a shake of his head. "I'll know better next time."  
  
Sebastian grimaced. He turned away from Blaine and looked out the car window up at the night sky. He would find a way to be rid of Hummel, and soon.  
  



	24. Chapter 24

Kurt couldn't help it. Somewhere around three in the morning he woke up, embarrassingly hard and trembling. He didn't like having wet dreams, knowing that he was asleep in a room surrounded by Dave and four kids.  
  
Kurt threw on his robe and stepped outside to the family van. He took out his iPhone and dialed Blaine's number. He expected to hear his usual ring back tone of Katy Perry's "Last Friday Night", but Blaine had changed it to "Being Alive". Kurt smiled. He figured Blaine was sound asleep, so he was about to hang up and just text him, when he heard the phone pick up, and a surprisingly awake sounding Blaine answered.  
  
"You're up early," Kurt commented.  
  
"Well, so are you, gorgeous," Blaine replied.  
  
"I like your ring back tone." Kurt bit his lip when Blaine chuckled.  
  
"You do, huh?" Blaine sat back in his bed, listening to his boyfriend's voice. His boyfriend's voice. He had to smile at that.  
  
"I do." Kurt lay down in the back seat of the van and looked out the window at the sky, still a dusky black.  
  
"Is everything alright?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Yeah, I..." Kurt felt a little silly admitting this to Blaine. "I...had a...kind of...dream...about you." Kurt bit his lip, wanting to scream like a giddy teenager.  
  
"Really?" Kurt could hear Blaine's smile as he spoke. "Was it a bad dream?"  
  
Kurt knew Blaine was teasing him. He groaned.  
  
"No, Blaine." Kurt squirmed uncomfortably. "Don't make me say it."  
  
Blaine laughed out loud, and Kurt blushed a deep cherry red.  
  
"Why are you laughing at me?" Kurt whined, trying to bite back a giggle in order to sound properly offended.  
  
Blaine struggled to catch his breath.  
  
"I just find it a little funny," Blaine said, fighting to calm down and speak, "that the man who finger fucked himself in front of me, who begged me to fuck him, who begged me to spank him, can't admit to having a wet dream."  
  
"Well," Kurt explained, "it's different. First of all, I sleep in a room with five other people..."  
  
"True, true," Blaine relented. "That is a little creepy."  
  
"But mostly..." Kurt pulled his robe around his body, chasing the warmth. "I don't like it when things are out of my control."  
  
Blaine sighed.  
  
"That makes a lot of sense," Blaine said. "It probably explains a lot, too."  
  
Kurt nodded, even though Blaine couldn't see.  
  
"You know," Blaine started tentatively, "you never told me how you started this...being a dominatrix, I mean."  
  
"Oh." Kurt fidgeted, trying to get comfortable on the cold vinyl seat. He considered going back inside where it was warmer, but he didn't want to move. He looked over the bench seat into the trunk and found an old camping blanket. He grabbed it and pulled it around him. "It's not that exciting a story."  
  
"I'd like to hear it," Blaine urged, "if you're comfortable telling me."  
  
"Yeah." Kurt curled in the fetal position while he tried to think of where the start. "Well, it was after we moved to San Diego. Dave and I pretty much sold everything we had that was worth anything. I sold my Navigator so we could get the van and the Suzuki. Everything else went toward the move and the down payment on the house."  
  
"What about your parents?" Blaine asked, turning on his side and putting the phone on speaker so he could imagine Kurt lying in bed with him, telling him this story.  
  
"My dad and my stepmom live in Ohio. They gave us as much as they could spare, but my dad's health isn't the greatest. I couldn't really ask them for much. Dave's dad gave us some money, and so did Rachel's dads. It went pretty quick." Kurt said quietly.  
  
"Where's your mom?" Blaine looked at the phone, waiting for an answer.  
  
"My mom died when I was eight."  
  
Blaine reached out a finger and ran it down the side of the phone, as if he were touching Kurt's cheek.  
  
"Oh, Kurt. I'm so sorry."  
  
Kurt brushed a tear off his cheek, and sniffled.  
  
"It's alright." Kurt closed his eyes. He put an arm around his waist, imagining it was Blaine's arm holding him tight. "It was a long time ago."  
  
Kurt removed the arm from around his waist so he could card his fingers through his hair, pretending Blaine was comforting him. It was a nice daydream, but it wasn't the same. Kurt had put a few drops of Blaine's cologne on every item of clothing he owned, and he could smell it around him now. Breathing it in gave him a feeling of peace, a sense of belonging to someone.  
  
"Anyway," Kurt continued, suddenly remembering he was in the middle of telling a story, "a friend of mine helped me get a job at a gay bar downtown. The uniform was head to toe leather..."  
  
Kurt laughed at the memory of driving down to his first day of work, dressed in that get-up, and getting pulled over for expired plates. The officer not only let him off with a warning, but slipped Kurt his number.  
  
"One of the bartenders wanted to try and be a dom, sort of as a side job for extra money. We got hired together, for a party. The night of, we got to the spot, and my friend...well...he chickened out. He split and left me."  
  
Blaine held his breath, horrified by the amount of people in Kurt's life who had run out on him, left him in the lurch.  
  
"What did you do?" Blaine's voice was barely a whisper.  
  
"I went through with it. There were eight guys and they were kind of pissed that only I showed up, especially considering they were looking forward to a dominator and not...uh...me..." Kurt chuckled. "But it all worked out. In fact, they became steady customers for a while."  
  
Blaine smiled. He was a little curious to know how his black swan handled a room full of eight men, but he figured now wasn't the time to ask.  
  
"What did you do after?" Blaine asked awkwardly. "I mean, it was just a job, right? Was it pretty easy?"  
  
Blaine heard Kurt hiccup.  
  
"No, Blaine," Kurt admitted. "It wasn't easy. I sat in the shower the minute I got home and cried for over an hour." Blaine heard Kurt's voice become thick, wavering a bit. "But I promised myself that was the last time..."  
  
"The last time what, angel?" Blaine could feel tears starting in his own eyes.  
  
"The last time I would let that job make me cry."  
  
Blaine sighed.  
  
"Why did you stick with it?" Blaine heard Kurt sniffle and curse under his breath, probably for getting teary eyed.  
  
"Because I'm good at it." Kurt regained control of his voice. "It pays better than working at a bar. I set my own hours. And I get treated better, really. I mean, subs respect you. Drunk guys pinch your ass and tip badly."  
  
Kurt chuckled, but Blaine couldn't laugh.  
  
Blaine felt so far away, so impotent. He had fallen in love with Kurt before he really knew him. He never realized how strong, but also how broken his beautiful black swan was. It just reaffirmed to Blaine how much he needed to think of way to keep Kurt by his side. He needed to do something.  
  
Something big. Something worthwhile.  
  
"Hey." Blaine broke the uncomfortable silence, "I wanted to ask you something."  
  
"What is it, sweetheart?" Kurt shifted on the seat again so he could lay on his back and look out the window.  
  
"Well..." Blaine rolled onto his stomach, ignoring the pain from the scratches marring his chest, "the studio is having a gala to celebrate the Sing tour, and I was hoping that you would come...as my date."  
  
Kurt sat straight up. He jumped up and down in the back seat of the van. He tried his best to be as quiet as possible.  
  
Blaine could hear the squeaking of the van as it rocked back and forth over the phone. He smiled, biting his lip so as not to let on that he knew.  
  
"Blaine, that's...are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, Kurt," Blaine said. "I want you there. I want you with me. Tell me you'll come."  
  
"Of course, I'll be there," Kurt squealed. "Thank God Dave rescued my vintage McQueen."  
  
"Actually, I was hoping you would let me pick out something for you to wear."  
  
Silence.  
  
Blaine started to get worried.  
  
"Uh, Kurt?"  
  
"Blaine..." Kurt sounded resolute, "I've seen the clothes you wear, and they're cute, don't get me wrong..."  
  
"Kurt," Blaine interrupted, laughing, "would you just trust me?"  
  
"Blaaaiiinnneee!" Kurt whined. It physically pained him to think of putting this decision in Blaine's hands.  
  
"How about this..." Blaine didn't want to tell Kurt that he already had the perfect suit for Kurt to wear. "I'll send you a suit a few days ahead of time, and if you don't like it, I'll send Nick back down there and he'll buy you whatever you want."  
  
More silence.  
  
Blaine sighed.  
  
"Let me get this straight," Kurt teased, "you send me some horrid suit, and when I don't like it, I get to hang out with Nick again?"  
  
This time Blaine sat up. He suddenly went cold with jealousy.  
  
"You _do_ know Nick has a boyfriend, right?" Blaine clarified. "Jeff. He used to be a dancer, so he's got arms like tree trunks."  
  
"Blaine!" Kurt tried to sound offended. "Do you mean to tell me that my boyfriend has been jocking someone else?"  
  
Blaine smiled when Kurt called him his boyfriend.  
  
"No, my love." Blaine returned to his stomach, and Kurt to his back, both men dreaming about being in bed beside the other. "So, what do you say?"  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"I say yes, Blaine Anderson. Yes. Send me your terrible suit, and I will proudly wear it to this gala, and be your date."  
  
"Good." Blaine silently cheered. "Now, tell me about this dream you had."

* * *

  
Blaine did his best to avoid Sebastian at work. He didn't answer Sebastian's phone calls or texts. On one uncharacteristically rainy morning, however, Sebastian managed to corner Blaine at food services. Engrossed in a good morning text with Kurt, Blaine didn't notice when Sebastian slithered up behind him on line.  
  
"Hey, Blaine," he said smoothly into Blaine's ear. Blaine jumped a little at the unexpected intrusion, but he didn't acknowledge the voice as he continued to text.  
  
"Come on, Blaine," Sebastian said as they moved forward in line. "Don't be mad at me. Remember, you even said we were friends once..."  
  
Blaine scoffed and rolled his eyes, still not diverting attention from his iPhone screen.  
  
"Well, something like friends," Sebastian corrected. "Anyway, I miss hanging out with you, and talking to you, and fu-"  
  
"Just tell me why you did it." Blaine looked Sebastian full in the face for the first time in over a week.  
  
"Okay, okay, I admit that I was jealous." Sebastian raised his hands. "You and I, we've had kind of a thing going for a while, and even though I said no emotions, I kind of had some...for you..."  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his iPhone, giggling at a picture Kurt had just sent of him being squirted with the hose by a devious looking Junior.  
  
Sebastian looked over Blaine's shoulder at the photo and wanted to groan, but he held his tongue.  
  
"But when I saw the two of you together," Sebastian pressed on, "I knew there was no hope for a relationship between you and me. You and Hummel...you belong together." Blaine looked up at Sebastian. Sebastian smiled. "Anyway, I heard what Hummel said about that lady needing the scholarship money and I knew you would never let me outbid you, so I thought I would liven things up a bit."  
  
Blaine couldn't tell if Sebastian was being sincere or not. He didn't think that Sebastian was that good an actor.  
  
"I'm sure you got a big thank you out of Kurt for that one. Admit it..."  
  
Blaine smiled at the memory of Kurt, touching himself, fingering himself, letting Blaine spank him. He smiled even wider when he remembered this morning when he went to his trailer for body makeup and the make-up artist went ballistic.  
  
Blaine turned back to Sebastian.  
  
"What would you have done if you had won?"  
  
"I don't know..." Sebastian shrugged. "Talked, compared notes. Look, I know how important he is to you, and I really just wanted to get to know the guy."  
  
Blaine wanted to believe Sebastian. He really did. When Sebastian first got hired on the show, he was sweet, charming, and more than a bit naive. Blaine and Sebastian had started out as good friends. They shared similar interests in things like music and books. Sebastian also seemed a little star struck when he met Blaine, and that never failed to get Blaine's attention. Then they started this arrangement, and after that it seemed like they were having sex more than doing anything particularly meaningful.  
  
Sebastian changed, but maybe the old Seb was hiding in there somewhere. It would be nice to have his old friend back.  
  
"Come on, tiger," Sebastian prodded. "When's the next time you're going to get to see each other again? Is there some other charity event we're going to have to motor off to or something, because I'm all for another road trip."  
  
Blaine sighed. What could it hurt? Everyone was going to know sooner of later.  
  
"Okay," Blaine said. "I invited him to the gala for the launch of the Sing tour. And I have a feeling...the time has come," Blaine said, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly.  
  
Sebastian blanched, and gulped heavily.  
  
"Time for what?" he said, trying to sound innocent.  
  
"I'm going to introduce Kurt as my boyfriend," Blaine said with a sigh. "I'm going to come out."  
  
Sebastian pulled out his iPhone as nonchalantly as possible, pretending to check his email.  
  
"That's wonderful!" Sebastian said enthusiastically as he typed.  
  
 _From: Sebastian_  
 _Mayday! Mayday! We have a problem..._  
  



	25. Chapter 25

When the suit arrived, Kurt was awe struck.  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _You amazing, wonderful, incredible man! How did you do it?_  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _Why, whatever do you mean, gorgeous?_  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _My design! How did you get it?_  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _I have my ways... ;)_  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _Do you like it?_  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _No._  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _?_  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _I love it! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!_  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _You're welcome :)_  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _..._  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _Does this mean I don't get to hang out with Nick?_  
  
 _From: Blaine_  
 _:/_

* * *

  
Blaine did send Nick back down to San Diego to buy Kurt some shoes. Kurt had one decent pair of shoes, but they were over three years old, and showing some wear. He was grateful, if still a little uncomfortable. He didn't like Blaine spending so much money on him, but it was nice to hang out with Nick again. Picking out the perfect pair of shoes didn't take all too long, so they spent the rest of the afternoon at Stabucks gossiping. Kurt asked Nick about his boyfriend Jeff, which launched an almost hour long conversation with regard to exactly how in love Nick was with his own amazing, fantastic boyfriend.  
  
As it turned out, Blaine, Jeff, and Nick had all been friends from way back. They attended the same school in Westerville. Kurt knew Blaine was from Ohio. He just never realized that he lived only two hours away from him. How did Kurt not know this? _And_ Blaine had been in show choir. They probably competed against each other and never even realized it.  
  
According to Nick, his boyfriend Jeff had been an amazing dancer. He'd even been accepted to the Joffrey his junior year. He would have taken his G.E.D. and left school about the same time Blaine left to join Sing, but Jeff dislocated his knee. The injury completely derailed his career. After spending months going to a physical therapist, Jeff found his real life's calling. Now, Jeff was the physical therapist to the stars. Kurt could tell how proud Nick was of his boyfriend. He looked so much in love.  
  
Kurt wondered if _he_ looked the same?  
  
After that, the conversation switched to the subject of the scratches on Blaine's chest. Nick had caught a glimpse of them when he had helped fit Blaine for his tuxedo. Kurt found himself telling Nick nearly every sordid detail of his and Blaine's time in the dance room, minus only a couple of events. Kurt couldn't help it. It was hard to resist Nick's wide-eyed and rapt attention, the way he giggled in excitement, or stomped his feet under the table when something was particularly racy. It felt good to have a friend like Nick.  
  
Nick kind of reminded Kurt of Rachel.

* * *

  
Kurt felt a little like Cinderella. The suit in the box was exquisite. Of course it was; it was his design. Wherever Blaine had sent the design to have it made had put it together perfectly. Thank goodness for Kurt's meticulous notes. The garment didn't need to be tailored in any way. Dave had tears in his eyes when Kurt modeled it for him, hands over his mouth, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. He remembered the many nights Kurt spent sketching it and altering it, changing details, picking out just the right fabric.  
  
Kurt had considered this suit to be his magnum opus. Unfortunately, with money always so tight, Dave knew the suit would take forever to make, if at all. Seeing Kurt wear it now was like the realization of a dream.  
  
Kurt relented and let Blaine send a limo to pick him up. It arrived a little after five, and a small congregation of neighbors gathered anxiously around to see who it was picking up.  
  
Kurt kissed the children good bye.  
  
"I'll be home first thing in the morning." Kurt looked at Dave, regarding him silently. Dave nodded with a sad smile, and Kurt was immediately filled with guilt. He didn't like the idea that he was rubbing his new found happiness in Dave's face, but they had talked about this, even before Kurt met Blaine, about how they would handle things if either of them ever decided to have a relationship, or fell in love. Kurt knew Dave was happy for him. He also knew why Dave was sad.  
  
Kurt tried to push those thoughts aside as he waved good-bye to his family and embarked on this step of his journey - a journey closer to Blaine and farther away from his life as he knew it.  
  
Blaine rented a suite in the same hotel where the gala was being held. He planned an extra special night with his boyfriend. Blaine vibrated with excitement. He couldn't sit still. Blaine started getting ready early for the event. He took a long, hot shower that may have been made longer due to some vivid masturbatory fantasies.  
  
Blaine dressed carefully. He straightened his jacket as he scrutinized his reflection in the mirror. He turned left and right, trying to get a look at the tuxedo from the rear. He frowned. One of the vents hadn't been cut properly. He picked up his iPhone and sent a text to Nick, asking him to come up to his suite immediately and fix it. Blaine needed everything to be perfect for tonight - not a hair out of place, or a stray string showing.  
  
Nick had worked extra hard to try and find Blaine a tux that could stand up next to Kurt's amazing suit. Eventually Nick had to settle on a classic black Armani because a suit that could match Kurt Hummel's impeccable design just didn't exist. Nick had nearly fallen in love with Kurt as much as Blaine had. For the last three days, Kurt had been Nick's sole topic of conversation. Jeff was not amused. The evening before the gala, Jeff whisked Nick off to a suite of their own in the hopes of occupying his mouth with something other than talk of Blaine's amazing new boyfriend, Kurt Hummel.  
  
From what Blaine could see of Jeff's wrists this morning at breakfast, his beautiful black swan had given Nick some pointers. Though Jeff didn't divulge any specific details, Blaine had never seen the man look happier in his life.  
  
Blaine opened the door when he heard a knock, expecting to see Nick's bubbling smile and unending enthusiasm, preparing for another hour long conversation on how perfect Nick knew Kurt was. Blaine couldn't say that he minded.  
  
Brad Lee stood in the doorway instead. He didn't wait to be invited in. He brushed by Blaine, with Mia in tow.  
  
"Hello, Blaine," Brad drawled, looking Blaine up and down with narrow eyes. "That is an amazing tux. It's nice to see you putting more effort into your looks."  
  
"I'm not sure I know exactly what you mean." Blaine straightened his posture defiantly underneath Brad's strange expression.  
  
"It just seems to me," Brad explained, approaching Blaine and picking an invisible piece of lint off his lapel while he eyed the column of his neck overtly, "your accessories of late have been lacking. The bite marks, the scars on your wrists, and some low-class queer you have the gall to bring to my gala and pass off as your boyfriend."  
  
Blaine went cold. He knew Sebastian probably wasn't as sincere as he had made himself out to be. When he had pulled out his cell phone in the line at food services that day Blaine had confessed his plan, Blaine suspected he would send out a mass text to everyone on the cast and crew, informing them all. Blaine had actually counted on it. He wanted things all out in the open as soon as possible. He was tired of hiding his relationship with Kurt. He also didn't want it to come as a surprise to everyone when he made his big announcement. Brad and the other producers at the show might need to head things off with the press. Blaine wanted them to have that opportunity.  
  
In the end, Blaine didn't figure it would really matter to anyone. At least, not enough for Brad Lee to be standing in front of him right now, insulting him...possibly even threatening him.  
  
"Pass off?" Blaine repeated. "He is my boyfriend. And he has a name. Kurt Hummel. He's here tonight because we're in love."  
  
"Well," Brad scoffed, "as long as you're on my show, I say you're not. Especially not with that whore."  
  
Mia smirked. Blaine had almost forgotten she was there.  
  
"Don't call him that." Blaine's voice crackled with hate. He wanted to leave, just grab his things and go, call it quits. "I can do what I want with my life, and I want to spend it with Kurt."  
  
Brad laughed.  
  
"Do you really think you're life is your own?" Brad's narrow eyes became evil slits as he pressed uncomfortably close to Blaine. " _You_ are a product, Blaine Anderson. A product _I_ made. A product _I_ own. _You_ do what _I_ say, or I ruin you. Simple."  
  
"I have the right..." Blaine roared.  
  
"You have a contract!" Brad interrupted. "Have you read it? Because I have. And my lawyers have. You're mine until I get tired of you and say otherwise."  
  
Blaine's body trembled with rage, but he was resolute. What did he care about contracts and this stupid show? In fact, Brad was probably doing him a favor. Blaine would be off the show. Yeah, he'd probably have to pay some breach of contract fine, but he could afford it. Then he would be free. Free to pursue a life with Kurt.  
  
"That's fine," Blaine said with a relieved sigh. "My lawyer will call your lawyer, and iron out the details."  
  
"What details?" Brad looked amused.  
  
"The details of me leaving the show." Blaine felt almost giddy. "I choose Kurt over this stupid show any day of the week."  
  
Blaine turned to pack his bag. He wanted to get as far away from this train wreck as humanly possible.  
  
"And what about Kurt?" Mia chimed in, probably chomping at the bit to make her presence known.  
  
"What about Kurt?" Blaine stuffed items haphazardly into his toiletry bag. "He won't give a shit if I'm on this show or not. In fact, he'll probably be elated to know that I'm done with you."  
  
"And his kids?"  
  
Blaine felt his palms sweat. Why would Kurt's kids matter, unless...  
  
Blaine turned slowly, a knot building in his stomach.  
  
"What do they have to do with me being on the show?" Blaine's voice started to sound small, insecure.  
  
"Blaine, have you ever been to Kurt's house?" Brad shook his head in mock disappointment.  
  
Blaine hadn't. It never came up. Kurt preferred to meet Blaine wherever they went. Blaine figured it was a way of keeping the kids safe. He knew Kurt didn't want to bring anyone new into their lives until they were more prepared.  
  
Blaine shook his head numbly.  
  
"I haven't either, thank God, but I sure as hell looked it up on Google Earth, and I've got to tell you...it's not the kind of place kids should be brought up." Brad sighed dramatically, looking up at Blaine with sympathetic eyes, evil smirk still in place. "Look..." Brad enjoyed the look of blanket fear that had now clouded Blaine's face. "From what I hear your boy Kurt isn't doing too good - bank account in the red, house calls from child protective services. I'm not sure at this point that it would take too much more for the authorities to take Kurt's kids away."  
  
"No." Blaine spoke without even thinking. "You can't do that."  
  
Both Brad and Mia smiled like jackals.  
  
Why didn't Kurt tell him, Blaine wondered. Why didn't he say anything? And how could his bank account be in the red if Blaine had just paid him? This had to be a trick, some made up story Brad was trying to use to get Blaine to do what he wanted.  
  
Game or not, it was working.  
  
"Leave the kids out of this." Blaine tried to sound more confident than he felt. Kurt said Blaine would make a good dominator. It had to be there inside of him somewhere. Why couldn't he tap into it?  
  
Blaine felt defeated.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Blaine mumbled. In his chest, his heart stopped. He looked down at his shoes, not wanting to see the triumphant smiles on Brad and Mia's faces.  
  
"It's simple, Blaine." Brad took both of Blaine's arms and shook him congenially. "You keep dating Mia here, we don't talk about Kurt ever again, and life goes on as usual."  
  
Blaine snapped his head up, staring into Brad's eyes incredulously. He looked over Brad's shoulder to see Mia preening in the mirror.  
  
"No," Blaine said. "I won't do it."  
  
"I'm not saying that you have to give up your little trick," Brad cajoled. "You can stick your dick up his ass whenever you feel the need..." Blaine saw Mia glare at that remark. "Just don't be seen in public together...ever."  
  
Kurt didn't deserve to be 'the other woman'. Blaine wanted to be out and proud with Kurt. He wanted to be the one person who never left Kurt in the lurch.  
  
"Though, I'm not too sure how much time you're going to have together once we go on tour," Brad continued. "You probably won't even see him for, what is it, six months?"  
  
Blaine felt like he was sinking into a deep hole. There had to be a way out - a light at the end of the tunnel. He just couldn't see it. He'd figure this out. He had promised Kurt he would. He had to keep that promise.  
  
He just couldn't keep it right now.  
  
"Fine," Blaine said, teeth clenched so tight he felt his head pounding. "I do this, and you leave Kurt and his family alone."  
  
"Of course," Brad said, patting Blaine hard on the back. "Now, why don't you escort your beautiful girlfriend down to the gala, get all lovey-dovey, and we'll pretend like this little talk never happened, hmm?"  
  
Mia slid up behind him and took his arm.  
  
"Let's go, gorgeous," she said, kissing him on the cheek and leading him out the door. The trio brushed by Nick, standing in the hallway, watching with his mouth agape as they walked toward the main elevator.

* * *

  
Kurt's limo got stuck in traffic, so by the time he arrived to the hotel, the gala was already packed with people. Kurt's heart lodged in his throat. He peeked over the numerous heads and the multitudes of mingling couples, and looked for Blaine. He couldn't imagine what Blaine would think of him in his suit. He wanted Blaine to hold him so badly his skin itched all over.  
  
He circled the ballroom about five times before he caught sight of Blaine, walking arm in arm with Mia, talking with the press and taking pictures. Kurt felt a little twinge in his chest when he saw them together, laughing, holding each other, Mia pecking him on the cheek. Kurt tried to rationalize what he was seeing. This was a gala to celebrate the tour for the show. He supposed Blaine had to make a good show of things. Blaine was probably just waiting for him to show up.  
  
Kurt caught Blaine's gaze and smiled, waving his arm so that Blaine could see him. Blaine's reaction filled Kurt's veins with ice. Blaine looked at Kurt pointedly, almost angrily, shaking his head from side to side, before returning to the interviewer he was talking to, smile firmly in place. Mia followed Blaine's gaze and saw Kurt. She smiled and laughed, with a devious glint in her eye. She leaned over and kissed Blaine's cheek, holding his shoulders in a tight embrace. Blaine put a hand over her hand and rubbed it gently.  
  
Kurt's heart broke. There had to be some sort of explanation, but he couldn't think of one. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, to see if Blaine had sent him a text, something, some explanation, but he saw nothing.  
  
Kurt looked around for Nick, hoping maybe he could give him an idea what was going on. Kurt made his way to the bar and ordered a white wine. He figured he would sit for a moment and wait. Eventually everything would be explained, he was sure of it.  
  
Sebastian came up behind him, putting his hands possessively on Kurt's shoulders.  
  
"May I buy you a drink?" he asked. Kurt raised his glass with a smirk.  
  
"A dance?" Sebastian sat beside Kurt.  
  
"No." Kurt didn't meet his gaze.  
  
"How about sleeping with me then?" Sebastian whispered.  
  
Kurt laughed humorlessly.  
  
"Never in a million years. I told you, I'm not a prostitute." Kurt took a bigger sip than he meant to, feeling the alcohol go straight to his head. "Besides, I'm taken." Kurt wished that last remark could have sounded bitchier, but he didn't seem to have it in him.  
  
"I have no intention of making you a whore." Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Not like _some_ people..."  
  
Kurt sipped his white wine, the fruity notes turning bitter on his tongue.  
  
"No," Sebastian continued, "I'm talking about a legitimate business transaction. A spot of healthy domination..." Sebastian rubbed Kurt's shoulders. "...and maybe afterward, you'll let me take care of you."  
  
Kurt turned, resolved to sweep past Sebastian and leave when he saw them - Blaine dancing with Mia in his arms, laughing, gazing into each others' eyes. Blaine's fingers traced soft circles across the exposed skin of her shoulders. Kurt's skin tingled recalling the same feeling.  
  
"He's never going to leave her," Sebastian whispered, his voice surprisingly sympathetic. "I've had to come to terms with it. So should you."  
  
Kurt's heart stuttered as he watched them, letting Sebastian's words seep into his consciousness.  
  
"But, he... he said he was never with her." Kurt didn't know why he said it, why he would admit it to Sebastian, of all people. "He said the studio made it all up."  
  
"I'm sorry, Kurt." Sebastian sighed. "It seems like Blaine's a better actor than you think."  
  
"But, why?" Kurt turned to Sebastian, begging him with his eyes to explain why his heart was breaking.  
  
Sebastian shrugged.  
  
"She found out about the two of you. Gave him an ultimatum. He chose her."  
  
Kurt's mind whirled. It didn't make any sense. No, he believed Blaine. He believed that Blaine loved him and that this was all an act. But, if it was, why wouldn't Blaine take a moment and talk to him? Why not send him a text explaining? Why send him this gorgeous suit and invite him here, just to break his heart?  
  
Kurt sighed, his resolve fading. All his hopes and dreams dissolved with every laugh, every gaze, every turn on the dance floor.  
  
Sebastian squeezed Kurt's shoulders, standing from his stool to press his chest against Kurt's back. Sebastian ran his nose down the column of Kurt's neck, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla.  
  
"I promise... you'll enjoy it."  
  
Kurt turned an icy glare at Sebastian.  
  
"You can't pay me enough to enjoy it," Kurt said. He downed the rest of his drink, and with one last glance at Blaine and Mia, said, "Lead the way."

* * *

  
Blaine finally managed to pry himself away from Mia and her sticky fingers. He couldn't wait to get Kurt upstairs and have a moment alone. He was sure just a few minutes in the shower with his boyfriend would be enough to wash this feeling of filth he had on him away. He needed to talk to Kurt. He needed to explain.  
  
He saw Kurt when he entered the ballroom - his bright smile, his perfect hair, and that amazing suit. Blaine was so proud to call him his boyfriend. His first instinct was to take the man in his arms and kiss him breathless, but he couldn't. Blaine felt shackled. He had made Kurt a promise, and now he needed to break it. Kurt deserved to know why.  
  
Blaine would have texted Kurt, but he wanted to tell him in person. He managed to keep an eye on him while he went to the bar and ordered a drink. Blaine wondered for a moment if he had gotten himself a tequila or a Shirley Temple. One kiss would tell him soon enough.  
  
Blaine looked down at his phone, and was surprised to see a text message from Sebastian.  
  
 _From: Sebastian_  
 _Look, I know you're in some trouble with the man, so I took Hummel off your hands for a bit. You can square this away with him later. Go hob nob...you're welcome._  
  
Blaine wasn't sure how he felt about Kurt alone with Sebastian. When they last spoke, he didn't think they were still really friends. Why would he do this for him? He didn't have time to contemplate it further when Mia swept him up again, and shuffled him off, arm in arm, to have their photograph taken by the press for an article entitled _America's Cutest Couple_. Blaine wondered whose idea that was. He bit his lip. He had imagined this press conference a dozen times, someone entirely different hanging from his arm. Had it gone the way he had wanted, the smile on his face would have been much bigger...and much more genuine.  
  
It was getting near midnight when the party started to wind down, and Blaine hadn't seen head or tail of Kurt or Sebastian in over two hours. Blaine was more than a little drunk. Spending so much time pretending he was Mia's boyfriend often did that to him. He was disgusted - at her, and his job, but mostly at himself.  
  
Blaine stumbled down the hallway. He knew that Sebastian had a suite here. He always got one at these events, inevitably hooking up with a groupie or another. He vaguely remembered hearing him mention that his suite number started with a 17-something. Oh well. He would just go to that floor and knock on all the doors. That made sense, didn't it?  
  
Blaine nearly fell out of the elevator. He looked down the corridor at what seemed to be a never ending row of doors. The suites, like on his floor above, were situated at the far end. Holding onto the wall, he felt his way down the hall. As he neared the end, he could hear faint moaning. He smiled as his cock twitched in his pants. He knew that sound. Someone was getting busy. He crept forward, and heard a particularly long, low moan in a voice that he recognized.  
  
 _'Sebastian,'_ he smirked. Blaine had been topping Sebastian for long enough that he knew all of his moans.  
  
Blaine figured if Sebastian was having sex in his suite, Kurt had to be elsewhere. He turned unsteadily to leave. Three steps away he heard a sound that had his cock standing at full attention. Another light, airy moan mixed with Sebastian's own gruffer voice. It was glorious. It was sinful. It was delicious. It was...familiar.  
  
 _'No!'_ Blaine screamed in his head. But it couldn't be. There was no way.  
  
Sebastian moaned louder now.  
  
Blaine crept up to the door. It was open a crack. He pushed it open a bit and stepped quietly inside.  
  
Before he could get anywhere near the bed, he stopped and waited. The thought of finding Kurt with Sebastian made Blaine sick. Then another thought cropped up, and Blaine nearly heaved.  
  
He'd been set up.  
  
Sebastian had texted Blaine to tell him that Kurt would be with him. He knew Blaine would come looking for Kurt. He left the God damned door open. Sebastian wanted Blaine to see this. Blaine felt so played, so betrayed, by a man he should have been smarter than to trust with the most important person in his life.  
  
On the other hand, Kurt had agreed to come up here. That was the twist to the knife in his heart.  
  
Blaine heard Sebastian moan again, followed by an airy giggle. He didn't want to, but he needed to see. He stumbled in and saw Sebastian tied to the bed. Blue eyes stared into hazel, wide and filled with shock.  
  
"Blaine!"  
  



	26. Chapter 26

Kurt's decision to follow Sebastian back to his room and take him up on his offer was mostly bred from anger and spite, but the closer they got to the suite, the more he regretted his decision. Kurt wanted to hurt Blaine, plain and simple. He wanted to make him feel the heartbreak and loss that overwhelmed Kurt.  
  
He had no intention of having sex with Sebastian, but he needed to blow off a little steam, and Kurt always felt that a well placed belt to Sebastian's ass was exactly what the man needed to put him in his place. Kurt wanted to let Blaine explain, but what about what he saw with his own two eyes? Did it even matter, since it was obvious from that glare earlier that Blaine didn't even care. Blaine had his precious life after all - he was famous, adored, and he had his beautiful co-star. Kurt was just a distraction.  
  
The only person Kurt was hurting here was himself.  
  
Kurt thought he should just get out of this; change his mind. Sebastian wouldn't force him to do anything. He could turn around and run. On the other hand, Sebastian had agreed to pay him...pay him a lot of money in advance. This was just another job. As long as he could keep that mindset, keep his mask carefully in place, he could do this, be done, and get a hefty paycheck. Then he would run home and consider whether or not he would ever look back.  
  
Sebastian turned and smirked at Kurt as he slid the card key into the door and opened the lock. Kurt immediately became numb.  
  
Sebastian was a nightmare. He wasn't like any other client Kurt had ever had...mostly because Sebastian had no intention of being dominated. He was far too handsy for a sub, and he didn't follow orders. At one point Sebastian tried to unbutton Kurt's shirt, and Kurt lost his cool entirely. Kurt's inner bitch reared its ugly head. Kurt tore Sebastian's shirt from his shoulders. He pinned him to the bed with a strength Sebastian never expected, and whipped Sebastian with his belt, far harder than he had ever hit anyone before.  
  
When he flipped Sebastian onto his back, the man's eyes nearly glowed red, his mouth a thin set line, his teeth clench. Kurt scrambled to tie him down and blindfold him, then stumbled off the bed, and sat at the vanity to cool down. Kurt was contemplating just leaving Sebastian there and heading home.  
  
Kurt was nearly in tears. This was all too much. He just wanted to go. How did everything spiral so completely out of control like this? He had such high hopes, so many dreams, and as of late those dreams had included a certain curly haired actor, with hazel eyes so warm just a glance melted Kurt to his core. A million and one confessions of love, and promises of forever. Was it really all just an act? It couldn't be...could it? Kurt felt the weight of a thousand different betrayals pressing down on him, and he didn't know what the truth was anymore. The only real truth Kurt had ever known was Dave and the kids and their undying affection for him.  
  
Maybe that's the only place he belonged. He just had to accept it.  
  
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, trying to gather his thoughts together, think logically, go back to being the calm and cool dominatrix he had to be in order to exist in a world that constantly stacked the odds against him.  
  
A quiet, even somewhat soothing voice broke through his thoughts.  
  
"Come on, sweetheart. I know you're still there."  
  
Sebastian sounded breathless, but he didn't sound angry.  
  
"Please, Kurt," Sebastian implored. "I'm sorry."  
  
Kurt wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.  
  
"I didn't mean to upset you." Sebastian's said evenly and calmly. "I wanted to have a little fun with you. You seem so serious...so upset."  
  
Silence.  
  
Sebastian sighed.  
  
"I just wanted to hear you laugh...see that beautiful smile of yours..."  
  
Kurt lifted his heavy head and turned to look at Sebastian, lying prone but relaxed, still bound to the bed.  
  
Kurt could almost believe him.  
  
He stood and crossed over to the bed, settling down at the foot. Feeling the slight shift of the mattress, Sebastian turned his head in Kurt's direction.  
  
"I meant it when I said I wanted to take care of you, Kurt," Sebastian said. Kurt felt a lump in his throat, remembering when Blaine had said something similar. _'I can see myself falling for you...taking care of you...'_  
  
Kurt choked back a sob.  
  
"Take whatever you need from me," Sebastian said. "However you want me, I'm yours..."  
  
Kurt moved to touch the binds on Sebastian's ankles. This wasn't right. He was going to untie him and let him go. His fingertips gently brushed the skin on Sebastian's right foot.  
  
"You can pretend I'm Blaine..."  
  
Kurt stopped cold. That's what this was about. This was about fucking over Blaine.  
  
"So, beautiful," Sebastian said when Kurt didn't move. "Are you going to spend the night with me?"  
  
Kurt looked down at the tie under his fingers.  
  
"No," Kurt said. "I don't sleep with clients."  
  
"But you spend the night with Blaine." Sebastian started to sound upset.  
  
"I love Blaine." Kurt removed his hand. "And I always will."  
  
Kurt was about to untie Sebastian's ankles when he growled, "Fine. Fuck you, you ridiculous fucking cock slut."  
  
Kurt felt like he'd been slapped. Kurt balled his hands into fists. Moving away from the bed, he rummaged through Sebastian's pants for his cell phone, and stuck it in the bound man's hand.  
  
"Here," Kurt said. "Call someone to come help you out, you disgusting asshole. But don't bother calling Blaine. He wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot fucking pole."  
  
Kurt grabbed his jacket and ran for the stairwell.

* * *

  
Blaine stood with his mouth open, gaping like a fish. He couldn't quite decide whether to laugh or cry.  
  
"Blaine Anderson!" the high pitched voice almost squealed with glee. "I can't believe it's really you!"  
  
Sebastian was lying on his back, tied by his wrists and ankles to the bed. Completely naked and straddling him was a pale, waifish young man that Blaine vaguely remembered from an open call Sing had the previous year. He had gotten a bit part in one episode, and then ended up getting a job in Special Ops and promotions for the network.  
  
"Do...do I know you?" Blaine asked.  
  
The man rolled his eyes, and extended a hand.  
  
"Chandler," the man said. "Chandler Kiehl."  
  
Blaine approached and shook his hand, a little disturbed by the fact that this man seemed all too comfortable having this conversation with Blaine while his dick was hard and he was in the middle of riding Sebastian's cock.  
  
"Not that I don't enjoy the lady talk, gentlemen," Sebastian chimed in finally, "but we were kind of in the middle of something here, Blaine, so if you're not going to join in could you please get the hell out?"  
  
"Uh...sure, but...where's Kurt?" Blaine asked.  
  
"How should I know?" Sebastian barked. "Kurt got me up here to have sex with me, and the next thing I know, your frigid bitch tied me up and split."  
  
Blaine was furious. He had every intention of punching Sebastian in the face, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it while he was tied up and naked.  
  
"Oh, I passed him going down the stairwell on my way up here," Chandler practically sang. Blaine looked at Chandler's oblivious smile and shook his head.  
  
"Um...thanks." Blaine nodded, turning quickly to leave and find his angel, followed by the sound of light, airy broken moans as Sebastian bucked his hips up to get Chandler's attention.  
  
Blaine found the heavy door that led to the stairwell. He could hear soft whimpering as soon as he walked through.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine called down as he approached the railing. "Kurt?"  
  
"Blaine?" a quiet voice, thick with tears, answered.  
  
The minute he heard it, Blaine's feet went running.  
  
"Kurt!"  
  
Blaine quickly made his way down the stairs, his heels clicking on the stairs and echoing loudly in the enclosed space. Kurt could hear Blaine calling him, knew that Blaine was barreling down the stairs to get to him, but Kurt didn't want to move. He'd been sitting on this step for over an hour. He just wanted to go home.  
  
When Kurt saw Blaine, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to get up and run into his arms. He wanted to slap him across the face. He was already crying. He opted for sitting completely still and letting the universe decide.  
  
Blaine approached Kurt slowly, like he was approaching a cornered wild animal...like a swan with broken wings. He knelt in front of him, trying to look into Kurt's eyes, but he kept his gaze pinned to his shoes.  
  
"You look amazing," Blaine started softly. "I've wanted to tell you that all night."  
  
Kurt sighed. He had a hundred questions and a hundred more accusations.  
  
"Why am I here?" Kurt asked.  
  
"You're here because I love you," Blaine said, "and all I want is to be with you, but..."  
  
Kurt laughed bitterly.  
  
"You know, my mom used to say that the minute you say 'but' you negate everything that came before it." Kurt shook his head.  
  
"That's not true!" Blaine said. "I do love you! I do want to be with you. I've been trying to tell you..."  
  
"That's okay." Kurt rose to his feet, his legs sore from sitting so long. "I understand, I think. You wanted to try something different, and it didn't work out the way you wanted. You can't help who you fall in love with."  
  
Blaine scrunched his nose, shaking his head.  
  
"I don't understand," he said, grabbing Kurt's arms. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes finally, and Blaine could see just how much Kurt had been crying.  
  
"You and Mia," Kurt said. "She made you choose...and you chose her."  
  
Blaine rushed Kurt and held him tight. Kurt didn't make a move to hold him back.  
  
"No, no, no!" Blaine said. "No, that's not it at all. Please, you can't believe that. I love you. Who told you that?"  
  
Blaine held Kurt at arm's length. His beautiful blue eyes looked wary, worn down, beat.  
  
"Sebastian." Kurt ran and hand through his hair.  
  
Blaine started to take little fragments of the evening and stitch them together.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine asked gently. "Were you going to sleep with Sebastian?"  
  
Kurt snapped his head up.  
  
"No! Sleep with...I didn't sleep with Sebastian." Kurt sounded deeply hurt. "He paid me to dominate him. That's all. He offered, but I couldn't. I didn't...I don't..." Kurt stumbled, hating the way his voice sounded. "I left him there. Tied to the bed. Who told you -"  
  
Kurt put two and two together.  
  
"Fuck!" Kurt yelled sharply. "I think we've been played."  
  
Blaine was both relieved and hurt at the same time.  
  
His black swan, dominating another man...dominating Sebastian. It was almost as bad.  
  
"Why did you dominate him?" Blaine's voice was quiet.  
  
"Because I was mad at you." Kurt wiped away new tears. "And technically, as per our agreement, I was within my rights."  
  
' _Now that sounded bitchy,' Kurt_ thought.  
  
"I asked you to give me a month." Blaine looked ruined. "One month to figure this out."  
  
Kurt looked up into Blaine's eyes.  
  
"It's been almost two."  
  
Blaine sighed. He'd done it. Just like everyone else, he had left Kurt in the lurch.  
  
"I don't think you're ready to make the commitment you're trying to make to me," Kurt said sadly.  
  
Blaine felt his heart slam in his chest.  
  
"Kurt, that's not true!" Blaine rushed to defend himself, but Kurt shook his head.  
  
"You don't have to explain," Kurt said. "Really. I told you I would wait for you to be ready. I promise you I will. I...I just need a little space...for now."  
  
Blaine started to shake.  
  
"Are...are you breaking up with me?"  
  
Kurt shook his head.  
  
"No, Blaine," he said. "I'm not. I love you. I just...I need a little time. Can you do that? Can you give me time?"  
  
Time. The one thing he never seemed to have enough of.  
  
Blaine nodded quietly, staring ahead, staring away. Kurt walked up and kissed Blaine on the cheek tenderly. Blaine closed his eyes, soaking in the feeling of Kurt's lips against his skin. All too soon, Kurt's lips were gone, and so was Kurt.  
  
Blaine couldn't blink. Blaine couldn't breathe. His body was paralyzed; it wouldn't let him move. The only part of him working was his mind, where deep inside his head rang his own voice screaming, "Noooooooo!"

* * *

  
Blaine eventually made his way back to his room - the suite he had intended on sharing with Kurt. He had the whole night planned out. They would stumble upstairs, blissfully happy, the weight of the world lifted from Blaine's shoulders after telling every one that Kurt was his, and that they were going to be together. After Blaine told the world that he loved Kurt, and only Kurt, they would spend the rest of the night making love. Kurt would trust Blaine with everything, with his family, with his future.  
  
He noticed the door to the suite was open just a sliver. A tiny flicker of hope ignited in his mind. Maybe Kurt had changed his mind, and doubled back, making it upstairs before Blaine somehow. Blaine rushed to the door and pushed it open.  
  
"Kurt, I..."  
  
Instead, he saw Mia. Immediately Blaine wanted to be anywhere else.  
  
"Oh, thank goodness!" Mia moved to wrap herself around Blaine as soon as he walked through the door. "I thought you were never coming."  
  
Mia, dressed in a black satin negligee, kissed Blaine's neck, trying to inspire him to move, to touch her, to do anything.  
  
Blaine remained stiff, immobile, letting his body crumble inside. It seemed like there was nothing left.  
  
Oblivious to the look of pain on his face, Mia continued her assault, unbuttoning Blaine's shirt and kissing down his chest, grimacing at the fading scratch marks she knew weren't hers.  
  
He felt nothing.  
  
Mia chuckled as she reached for his belt.  
  
"You know, for a moment," she said between licks and nibbles, "I thought you had actually left me for that fag..."  
  
The word 'fag' seemed to snap Blaine back to his senses. He looked down at Mia, fumbling with his belt buckle, and for the first time registered her presence.  
  
"What...what are you doing?" Blaine took her hands and pushed them away. Mia looked confused.  
  
"I'm calling a do over." Mia seemed determined to get Blaine's pants off. "I mean, I know you didn't mean to come in here and call me by that...well, that whoever's name, but like I said, I forgive you."  
  
"Mia," Blaine grabbed her hands again. His face scrunched up in disgust as he pushed her away.  
  
"It's done." He raised his voice for emphasis, but she looked lost at his reaction. Mia came at him once more, but he grabbed a hold of her shoulders and held her at arm's length, looking deep into her brown eyes.  
  
"I don't care what Brad says. This charade is done."  
  
Mia stood, stunned and staring. Blaine almost felt sorry for her. Just like him, she was a pawn. Blaine remembered meeting her their first day on set. She was bubbly and vivacious, her smile positively infectious. Just like him, Sing was just going to be a stepping stone that led to other opportunities.  
  
Like him, she had gotten stuck. She wasn't a real person anymore. Her whole life was a made up construct. The only difference was that Mia was fine where she was. All those dreams she had at the beginning had long since disappeared for her, and she was okay with that. This show had put her on top and she would do anything to stay there.  
  
Blaine grabbed his overnight bag and walked out. He made his way down to the lobby and handed the valet his ticket. As he waited for his car, he noticed a limo - Kurt's limo - still parked out front with the chauffeur standing, waiting. Kurt hadn't left yet. Kurt wouldn't let him explain, but Blaine had to find a way to make him listen.  
  
Blaine still had a chance.  
  
Blaine ran over to the car, dodging others driving by along the way.  
  
"Where's Kurt?" Blaine asked when he reached the driver.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?" the chauffeur asked with a tip of his hat.  
  
"The man you drove here? From San Diego?" Blaine asked desperately. "Where is he?" Blaine tried to peek through the heavily tinted windows.  
  
"Oh, yes," the man said with a genuine smile. "Lovely man. He ran out, rather upset. I asked him if he was going back to San Diego, and he told me that he had it covered."  
  
Blaine's whole demeanor fell. Not only had Kurt left Blaine, he had left the limo as well. Blaine had no idea how Kurt was getting home, or whether or not he was alright.

* * *

  
Kurt saw the limo waiting for him on the way out of the hotel. He also knew that Blaine was picking up the tab for the car service, so Kurt left it. He hailed a cab and made his way to a Greyhound station for the longest walk of shame of his life.  
  
It always amazed Kurt that a drive that took two hours normally by car took close to five hours by Greyhound. As it turned out, he had to wait close to four hours for the next bus to San Diego anyway. So by the time he made it home, it was already close to noon. The cab pulled up in front of his house, and he could see Dave pacing the living room in front of the large picture window, baby in his arms. When Dave saw Kurt, his eyes widened, and he ran for the back door.  
  
 _'So much for my plan to slither in under the cover of darkness,'_ Kurt thought.  
  
Dave put Elphaba in her play pen and met Kurt at the door, noting the tired man's slouch, his sunken eyes, his paler than normal complexion. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.  
  
"You said you would be home first thing in the morning, Kurt." Dave followed Kurt into the bedroom, turning around to make sure the kids weren't paying attention. Dave and Kurt had a rule to never argue or fight in front of the children...a rule they never had to worry about until recently. "It's almost one in the afternoon! We were worried sick about you! You weren't answering your phone."  
  
"Please, can we not do this now, Dave," Kurt said, putting a hand to his pounding head. "I had a pretty miserable night."  
  
"And what about us, Kurt?" Dave countered after the door closed.  
  
"Us?" Kurt asked, a bit sarcastically, "or you?"  
  
Dave glared, but decided not to acknowledge the accusation.  
  
"You haven't even asked what kind of night we had," Dave said carefully.  
  
Kurt settled down at the end of the bed, slowly removing his shoes.  
  
"You're right, Dave," Kurt said tiredly. "How were you and the kids? Anything exciting happen?"  
  
Dave watched as Kurt sat, head in his hands. Kurt had already removed his suit jacket and shirt, sitting in his slacks and undershirt. He breathed heavily. Dave watched as Kurt inhaled, and then exhaled, almost painfully. He looked like a man who was withering. He looked like a man who had given up. A knot twisted in Dave's chest.  
  
Dave sighed. For so long Dave had tormented Kurt. Pushed him, threatened him, assaulted him, when deep down inside all he wanted was to be a part of Kurt's world. When they moved in together to raise the kids, he worked himself almost to death to be the kind of man Kurt might be proud to call his some day, but it wasn't in the cards. In the end, Dave had hoped that someday Kurt would be happy. As for their arrangement, well, he would cross that bridge when they came to it. Now, here it was, and Kurt seemed like he finally had that chance to be happy. But the Kurt on the bed in front of him was not happy. Dave had no right to push him.  
  
Dave sat beside Kurt, and put a light hand on his knee. Kurt caved a little and swayed to Dave's side, resting his head on Dave's shoulder.  
  
"We just worry about you. That's all."  
  
Kurt sighed, and another shard of Dave's heart fractured off.  
  
"I know," Kurt said. "And I'm sorry. I got a little caught up. But I don't think that will be happening anymore."  
  
"Why not?" Dave asked, surprised.  
  
"Because I don't know when I'll be seeing Blaine again." Kurt turned to kiss Dave on the cheek. Dave closed his eyes at the feeling of Kurt's lips on his skin. He missed it. Once Kurt and Blaine had started seeing each other, Kurt had stopped kissing Dave. Dave understood, but it hurt.  
  
Kurt sighed, his next words almost a whisper.  
  
"Dave, I need to get some sleep."  
  
Dave turned to look at the man beside him. His sapphire eyes were closed, cheeks covered in the tracks from dried tears. His breathing was soft and even. Dave helped Kurt out of his pants. He averted his eyes out of respect. He knew Kurt would be livid if Dave let him sleep in his suit. After he had Kurt tucked under the covers, he kissed him delicately on the forehead.  
  
Dave dutifully hung up Kurt's suit, stumbling over his cell phone in the pocket.  
  
Dave didn't want to invade Kurt's privacy, but he was worried. Dave unlocked Kurt's phone and sifted through it for one particular number.  
  
Blaine was sitting at the foot of his bed, still dressed in his slacks and dress shirt, pounding down his fifth tumbler of whiskey. He was pretty sure he'd be through the bottle in the next ten minutes, and then he could attempt to close his eyes and forget he existed.  
  
The chirping of his iPhone almost sobered him immediately.  
  
He picked it up, expecting to see a message from Mia or Brad or Sebastian - another dig out of the twenty or so he had already received tonight showing just how much they had won and he had lost.  
  
He prayed it was Kurt.  
  
The number was unknown, but the text was clear.  
  
 _From: Unknown_  
 _This is the second time I have had to tuck your boyfriend into bed after crying because of a night with you. Whatever you do, Anderson, fix this!_  
  



	27. Chapter 27

_From: Nick_   
_Kurt! Meet me at Starbuck's in the mall in ten minutes. I'm buying you some clothes, and I'm not taking no for an answer._   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_Nick! What are you doing here?_   
  
_From: Nick_   
_We need to talk. You have nine minutes._   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_Nick, I can't let you do that._   
  
_From: Nick_   
_It's my expense account, I'll do what I want with it._   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_You know I don't believe that it's YOUR expense account._   
  
_From: Nick_   
_Please?_   
  
_From: Kurt_   
_Sign up for my Bokwa class tonight, and you have a deal._   
  
_From: Nick_   
_:)_   
  
_From: Nick_   
_What's Bokwa?_

* * *

  
Kurt had to hand it to Nick. He knew how to take his mind off his troubles. They spent the first hour of their trip to Nordies picking out eight more pairs of those criminal velvet pants while Nick drilled Kurt on more ideas of how Nick could torture his boyfriend in bed. It seemed that just being around Kurt had corrupted poor Nick, but Jeff didn't really mind.  
  
The card Nick used to pay had no name on it. It looked like a corporate card of some sort, so Kurt couldn't really tell if Nick was using his own expense account or not.  
  
Nick's next question left no doubt.  
  
"Um...Kurt," Nick said, looking down at his locked fingers and twiddling his thumbs, "I was supposed to be all secret squirrel about this, but as you can probably tell me and the concept of subtle don't really have a good working relationship, so I'm just going to say it."  
  
Kurt looked at Nick, eyebrow raised.  
  
"Blaine...asked me...to ask you...uh...since I'm here...ifthekidsneedanything?"  
  
The last words sped out from between Nick's lips like a bullet train, and smacked Kurt full on in the chest. Kurt's first reaction was to say no. Kurt didn't need charity. It was enough that Blaine had just spent a small fortune on clothes Kurt had no idea when he was going to get the chance to wear, but the kids...it seemed...like pity.  
  
Kurt bit his lip and stared at Nick, his wide puppy dog eyes almost pleading with Kurt to say yes. Kurt sighed.  
  
"Shoes," he relented. "They need shoes."  
  
Nick clapped his hands together. He grabbed some of Kurt's bags, looped an arm through his, and nearly skipped them down to the shoe department.

* * *

  
Kurt loved Nick's impromptu visit, but he was more than sure that the man was on a recon mission from Blaine. While sitting at Starbucks, drinking his non-fat mocha, Nick told him a story he wasn't sure how he could believe - the story of what Nick heard while he was standing outside Blaine's hotel room the night of the gala. Blaine hadn't asked Nick to. Blaine didn't even know that Nick had heard.  
  
Nick felt Kurt needed to know.  
  
"But you can't tell him I told you, please," Nick pleaded.  
  
Kurt was shocked.  
  
"Why didn't he tell-" Kurt stopped. He knew why Blaine hadn't told him. Kurt hadn't given him a chance. Then, Kurt had a horrible thought. The studio, Brad, they would all put his kids in danger.  
  
"But, now I have to break up with him, don't I?"  
  
Nick's eyes went wide. His face fell.  
  
"What? No! Why?" Nick asked. "Why would you do that?"  
  
"They're going to try to have my kids taken away," Kurt said incredulously. "I love Blaine, I do. With all my heart. But I have to protect my kids."  
  
"Do you think that Blaine would let them do anything to your kids?" Nick looked shocked. "They have him on a really short chain right now. Press junkets, interviews, photo sessions, tour P.R. They say jump and he says how high. And why do you think he's doing all of this? Why do you think he's agreeing to all of their ridiculous demands? To keep you guys out of this."  
  
Kurt sighed. He felt horrible. He never dreamed things would turn out this way. Not for poor Blaine.  
  
"If you break up with him now," Nick said, his voice heavy, "then he'll have done it all for nothing. And he loves you, Kurt. He really, really loves you."  
  
"Yeah," Kurt agreed nodding. "But is it worth it?"  
  
Nick took Kurt's hands.  
  
"The only reason you should ever break up with someone is if you stop loving them. Can you sit there and tell me that you've stopped loving Blaine?"  
  
Kurt dropped his head to their linked hands on the table with a frustrated sigh.  
  
"No," Kurt mumbled. "No, I can't say that. I probably love him right now more than I ever have. I just...I'm confused. And I don't know what I should do. It doesn't just affect me."  
  
Nick squeezed Kurt's hands.  
  
"Blaine knows that."  
  
Kurt lifted his head, and looked down at Nick's hands holding his. A bright smile spread across his lips. Nick's wrists were wrapped in leather bracers, but as one got loose and started to slip, Kurt could see a bright red scar.  
  
Kurt looked up into Nick's blushing face. Nick knew he had been caught.  
  
"You switched!" Kurt said with a giggle.  
  
"Shhh!" Nick said, pulling his arms away and hiding them under the table. "Don't tell anyone!"  
  
Kurt looked around.  
  
"Wh-who am I going to tell, Nick?" Kurt and Nick laughed. Kurt put his hands out, coaxing Nick's arms back up from under the table. Nick revealed them shyly. Kurt took his wrist, removing the bracer and eying the marks.  
  
"Damn, Nick," Kurt said, his lips twisted in a wry smile, remembering the marks that were left on Blaine's wrists when he pulled on his binds so hard that they bled. "These look a little painful."  
  
"Well," Nick rolled his eyes, "maybe a little bit, but it was definitely worth it. With pleasure comes a little pain."  
  
Kurt looked up into Nick eyes, open and honest.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"Look, Kurt..." Nick took Kurt's hands again. "I know you have to protect your kids, but how can taking this on by yourself be better than doing it with Blaine? Some things are worth the risk. I know that there is nothing I can't do as long as I have Jeff by my side."  
  
Kurt nodded.  
  
"I promise," Kurt said. "I'll think of a way to make this up to him. I just need a little more time."

* * *

  
Blaine and Jeff were playing a game of pool in Blaine's game room when they heard a car pull in the driveway.  
  
"Nicky's back!"  
  
Jeff bounded out of the room like a flash. Blaine had to smile. With the amount of sex those two had been having lately, Blaine was amazed that Jeff could still walk straight.  
  
From the conversation Nick and Jeff were having in the foyer, it seemed that walking was something Nick could no longer do correctly.  
  
"Oh my God, Nicky!" Jeff lamented as he collected his boyfriend in his arms and walked him to the sofa. "Is he demonstrating stuff on you now?"  
  
Jeff sounded more amused, and maybe even a little excited, than worried.  
  
"No," Nick said, waving his hand dismissively. "He wouldn't let me take him shopping unless I signed up for a Bokwa class he was teaching at the rec center."  
  
Blaine laughed behind his hand. Jeff's eyes lit up.  
  
"You took a Bokwa class?" Jeff looked amazed. "How did you survive?"  
  
"It's easy if you just focus on Kurt's ass," Nicky joked. "Dude, his body is amazing! Blaine, you're lucky as fuck."  
  
Blaine blushed. Jeff looked mildly annoyed.  
  
"So, is he..."  
  
"Still head over heels in love with you? You betcha."  
  
"And we're..."  
  
"Still boyfriends? Without a doubt."  
  
"And he..."  
  
"Misses you like crazy? Definitely."  
  
"And did he..."  
  
Nick smiled.  
  
"Shoes. A pair for each."  
  
Blaine smiled.

* * *

  
_Knock, knock._  
  
The door to Blaine's trailer opened and Trent, his accountant, walked in, holding papers Blaine recognized as bank statements. He had a big smile on his face.  
  
"Hey, Blaine!" Trent tried to be cheerful for his still slightly depressed friend, who stared blankly at his iPhone as if waiting for it to do something. "I've got some good news."  
  
"Yeah," Blaine mumbled, not even looking up.  
  
"It looks like you have an overage in your account."  
  
Blaine looked at Trent as if he had just grown a third head.  
  
"An overage?" Blaine reached for the papers.  
  
"Yeah, and it's quite a sizable one. You could go to Aruba for a week. You could even take your favorite accountant." Trent winked as he handed over the papers.  
  
Blaine looked at the statements. He rubbed his forehead with a tired hand as he looked over the numbers and the names. Then he looked at it again. Realization hit him, and he knew why the numbers didn't add up...where exactly the overage was coming from. Kurt.

* * *

  
_Knock, knock._  
  
"Dave?" Kurt called out, balancing the laundry basket on his hip while he dodged a ball that narrowly missed his head. "Hey, no ball playing in the house!"  
  
 _Knock, knock, knock._  
  
"Dave, can you get the door, please?"  
  
"No can do, babe," Dave called from the bathroom, "I'm giving Eva another bath."  
  
"Is she still covered in paint?"  
  
 _Knock, knock, knock, KNOCK._  
  
"Ugh," Kurt grunted, making his way through the cramped hallway to the mudroom and the back door. "Junior, if you put another pancake in your mouth, I'm diving in after it. COMING!"  
  
Kurt made his way to the back door, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his face. Using his free hand he fumbled with the dead bolt and yanked on the door handle, but the metal door was stuck.  
  
"Mother fucker-" he groaned as the door flew open and he dropped the basket of laundry on the ground. "Hello?"  
  
The word stuck in his throat and his mouth hung open. Blaine stood on his top step, smirking a little. He must have heard the whole exchange before Kurt opened the door, and Kurt could feel the color rise in his cheeks.  
  
"Blaine?" he choked out. "What are you doing here?" Kurt was stuck somewhere between leaping into his arms and dying of embarrassment.  
  
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Blaine asked smoothly, as if Kurt wasn't standing before him in a faded t-shirt and stained sweat pants, a pile of dirty laundry littering his feet and spilling out onto the steps.  
  
"Uh..." Kurt bent over quickly to start gathering up the laundry, "um, no. No, I can't." Kurt made a concerted effort not to look up into Blaine's eyes. Blaine knelt down to look into his.  
  
"Why not?" he whispered, putting a hand over Kurt's, effectively stilling it. Kurt looked up at Blaine.  
  
"This..." Kurt said, gesturing with his free hand at the small trailer, "is not me...it's not us. It's just the horrible situation we've been put into. And if you go in there, I will never be able to resolve that image of you...beautiful, sexy, amazing you...in there. I think I'd rather put a stake through my own eye. So, no. You can't come in. And you didn't answer my question...why are you here?"  
  
The sound of a ball hitting the wall snapped Kurt's head around.  
  
"Junior!" Kurt yelled, picking up the laundry basket and tossing it onto the dryer. "What did I tell you?"  
  
"Sorry, Kurt."  
  
Kurt ran a frustrated hand through his hair as his mind tried to ascertain the potential damage, when he remembered Blaine...standing in the doorway...had just heard Kurt let fly with his "dad yell".  
  
 _'Well, there's that image shattered,'_ Kurt thought as he chanced a sideways glance to the gorgeous man, who was now leaning against the door jam and smirking like mad.  
  
"You're still not coming in," Kurt said. Just then, a young boy made his appearance in the small room.  
  
"Kurt, Barbra's trying to duct tape Elphaba to the wall again," he announced.  
  
"Oh, crap, Finn Christopher! Why didn't you stop her?"  
  
Kurt pushed himself past the boy and headed into the house.  
  
"You told me not to touch Barbra!" the boy called out after him.  
  
"You could have grabbed the baby!" Kurt yelled back.  
  
"Oops," the boy said quietly.  
  
He was looking down at his Converse sneakers, fraying and coming away from the soles, almost as if he didn't even notice Blaine standing in the doorway. His eyes moved up finally as a breeze blew in, and his eyes locked on the man in the Marc Jacobs suit standing at the back door.  
  
"You're the hobbit man," the boy said, as if it was the most logical statement in the world.  
  
"What?" Blaine asked, thoroughly confused.  
  
The boy extended a hand, "My name's Finn, but everyone just calls me Junior."  
  
"Blaine," Blaine introduced himself, shaking the boy's hand. "Blaine Anderson."  
  
"I know," Finn said, averting his eyes. "Do...do you want to come in? It's a little messy, but you don't want to stand out here too long. We'll get flies in here."  
  
"Yikes." Blaine stepped inside, seeing this boy's invitation as his loophole to come in. Finn leaned against the dryer to let Blaine pass, and locked the door behind him. Blaine stepped through the doorway and into the hall. He was immediately shocked by the image that greeted him. The tiny trailer actually seemed smaller than it looked from the outside. The interior of the house was literally coming apart. Kurt had said it was an older trailer. Wood paneling on the walls was held up with duct tape, and one part of the hallway had no ceiling.  
  
There was clutter everywhere - not like hoarder clutter though. In fact, it looked like someone had taken great pains to make sure that every thing had a place, and tried to put those items there. It was just the kind of mess that came from shoving six people in a house made for two.  
  
Toys were scattered all over the floor. Kurt was busy, calmly talking to a bouncy little girl with straight brown hair while slowly and carefully removing silver tape from the dress of another. Kurt patted the hair of the bouncy little girl, who hobbled off with a peculiar limp. He put the toddler, now free of adhesives, into the playpen.  
  
Kurt saw Blaine, staring at him in shock. He dropped his head, raising his arms in exasperation, and put a hand over his eyes.  
  
"I never wanted you to see this."  
  
Blaine spun slowly around, taking everything in. What Brad had said about Kurt's house was right.  
  
"I don't understand." Blaine looked around with sad eyes. "You make good money, don't you?"  
  
Kurt blushed furiously, out of humiliation and anger.  
  
"I don't make superstar Blaine Anderson money, but we get by." A sarcastic edge crept into Kurt's voice.  
  
" _I_ paid you a lot of money," Blaine continued, not seeming to register Kurt's discomfort.  
  
Kurt scoffed. Of all the things that Blaine cared about, Kurt didn't imagine that money was on top of that list.  
  
"Is that what this is about?" Kurt shot back incredulously. "Your money?"  
  
"No," Blaine said, his voice getting soft as he turned his eyes to look at Kurt. "No, it's not. Because I know, Kurt. I just need you to tell me why."  
  
"Why what, Blaine?" Kurt busied himself with tidying, picking things up and then putting them down again in pretty much the same spot just so he didn't have to look into Blaine's eyes. Blaine crossed the room and took a hold of Kurt's arms.  
  
"Why didn't you deposit my checks?"  
  
Kurt bristled. He hadn't made a decision about the money. Keeping it felt dirty and wrong considering how things in their lives had changed, but he never thought Blaine would notice either way.  
  
Kurt looked up at Blaine, his blue eyes pleading for him not to ask; not to make Kurt say what he was thinking out loud.  
  
Because Kurt was thinking that accepting the money meant their relationship really didn't mean what he hoped it did. He didn't want to say that it made him feel cheap.  
  
Dave walked in from the bathroom, soaking wet and holding a squirming child in his arms. This little girl had long, spindly legs, and hair that curled and stuck out in all directions. She swung her legs and fidgeted almost non-stop, babbling in a language that sounded partially like English, and partially like baby talk.  
  
"Is there a problem here?" Dave asked, looking from Kurt, to Blaine, and then back to Kurt. Kurt looked at Dave's expression and furrowed his brow in confusion. Did Dave actually look happy to see Blaine?  
  
"Actually, there is." Blaine turned to Dave. Blaine reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. Kurt turned away and looked out the living room window, shoulders sagging, with a feeling that important decisions were being made without his consultation or approval. Blaine continued to speak as he wrote.  
  
"It seems that Kurt has, um, misplaced some checks that I had written to him. So, I've come here to deliver a new one personally." Blaine looked up from his checkbook with a smile.  
  
Blaine tore the check from the book and handed it to Dave. Dave took it a little skeptically.  
  
"Dave," Blaine said, "I am trusting you to deposit this check."  
  
Dave smiled back and nodded.  
  
"Thanks, Blaine," he said. "You could have just sent it in the mail. You didn't have to drive two hours to deliver this."  
  
"It's...um...not the only reason I came. But it is quite a bit of money." Blaine turned his smile to the little girl, who giggled bashfully and buried her head into Dave's shoulder. "I didn't want to risk it getting lost in the mail."  
  
Dave looked at the check. His eyes went wide, and he almost dropped Eva. A confused smile crossed his lips.  
  
"Kurt!?" Dave called past Blaine, walking over toys and a scooter to get to him. "This is nearly..."  
  
"Yes, I know how much money it is..." Kurt said quietly.  
  
Blaine's smile fell as he watched Kurt breathe in deeply, eyes trained toward the sky. Blaine looked back at Dave.  
  
"Would it be alright if Kurt and I spoke outside?" Blaine asked.  
  
"If it's alright with Kurt," Dave replied. Dave looked at Kurt as well, noticing how detached he seemed.  
  
Kurt only nodded.  
  
Blaine took Kurt's arm gingerly and led him outside.  
  
Kurt was uncharacteristically timid, and it made Blaine's heart sink. This wasn't his Kurt. This wasn't his fierce and fiery black swan.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine took hold of Kurt's arms, but Kurt wouldn't look up at him. "Kurt, I know I'm failing you left and right. I'm doing everything I promised you I wouldn't. I'm invading your privacy, I'm not giving you space."  
  
Kurt still wouldn't look up at Blaine.  
  
"Kurt, I'm not trying to insult you." Blaine wanted Kurt in his arms so badly it hurt. It physically hurt not having Kurt against him, but Blaine needed to talk to him. "When we first started seeing each other, it was your job. You offer a...unique...service, and I hired you. You dedicated a lot of time to me, and you deserve to be compensated. It doesn't make it any less special..." Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead. He finally couldn't keep his distance, and wrapped Kurt in his embrace. Kurt stayed rigid and unyielding, but Blaine held him, rubbing circles into his back. "It doesn't mean I'm not still completely and totally in love with you..."  
  
Kurt felt himself breaking a little, but he couldn't bring himself to uncoil and wrap himself around Blaine. He was humiliated by his circumstances, and deep inside he had prayed Blaine would never come to this house...never see him here.  
  
"I'm sorry I came down here and invaded your privacy," Blaine repeated.  
  
"Don't..." Kurt said, cursing himself for the tears creeping into his voice.  
  
Blaine placed a delicate kiss into Kurt's hair. They stood together. Kurt finally unwrapped his arms and held Blaine, squeezing him tight and remembering what it felt like to be warm and happy and alive again. He wasn't really angry with Blaine. He was angry for being seen as a failure.  
  
Blaine looked around at the metal house, panels rusting and weather worn, staircase with individual boards coming loose, and six people inside struggling to survive - not really living.  
  
He got a sudden stroke of inspiration. How he could make things right. How he could keep Kurt with him forever.  
  
"I want to make you an offer."  
  
"Hmmm?" Kurt murmured in acknowledgment.  
  
"I have a house," Blaine said, "in L.A. Not too far from mine, actually. It was one of the first things I bought when I became an actor. It's in a good neighborhood. It's just a little run down. I thought it was a good investment, but right now it's just sitting around doing nothing..."  
  
Kurt looked at him.  
  
"What are you saying, Blaine?"  
  
"I want you...all of you...to move up to L.A."  
  
"What?" Kurt stepped back quickly, stumbling a little.  
  
"Think about it." Blaine tried to say his piece quickly before Kurt could say no. "This place, this town, every thing here is unhealthy for you. In L.A., the schools are better, the neighborhood is better, the house is way bigger..."  
  
Kurt opened his mouth, and then closed it, not sure how to rebut, so Blaine continued.  
  
"You can do whatever you want to it, decorate it, make it handicap accessible..." Blaine fought to catch Kurt's eyes. "Dave can follow his dream, go back to school and become a sports agent..." Blaine lifted Kurt's chin to look into his eyes, unshed tears collecting on his lashes. "...and so can you. Become a designer, a singer, whatever you want to be."  
  
Kurt seemed to come to his senses then.  
  
"I can't," Kurt said, shaking his head resolutely.  
  
"Why not?" Blaine's face fell.  
  
"Because, I can't let you do this for me. It's too much."  
  
"But why?" Blaine asked. "I love you. That's never ever going to change. So, why is it too much?"  
  
Kurt looked down at his hands, wrapped in Blaine's. He wanted to say yes. God, did he want to say yes. All of their problems would be solved, and he could be with the man he loved.  
  
"I can't have my whole family rely on you."  
  
Blaine lifted their joined hands to kiss Kurt's fingers.  
  
"I love you. I want to take care of you. Let me take care of you, take care of your family," Blaine begged.  
  
"I promise. I won't fail you again."  
  
Kurt let out a long, tired breath.  
  
"Why does it feel like you're buying me?"  
  
"I'm not, Kurt," Blaine said, a stab of guilt surging through him at the words. "I'm not trying to buy you. I just want to make your life better."  
  
Kurt looked down and nodded.  
  
"Kurt," Blaine held Kurt again. "It would mean so much to me to do this for you. I promised you I would figure things out. This seems like a solution. It really does."  
  
Kurt took a deep breath and looked into Blaine's eyes.  
  
"Can I think about it?" Kurt asked. "I need to talk to Dave. But...I'm not saying no. I just need some time. Please."  
  
Blaine smiled. It wasn't a no.  
  
"Of course, my love. Whatever you need."  
  
Kurt looked down at his shoes for a moment, and then back up at Blaine.  
  
"I need to kiss you," Kurt said simply. Blaine smiled.  
  
Blaine claimed Kurt's lips slowly, and bit by bit his heart started to beat normally again.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we get to see a little more of Eva, who is autistic. Nobody's mentioned it, but I just want to say please do not get upset over my portrayal of Eva. I dedicated an earlier chapter to my own four children. A little bit of my kids live in Finn, Barbra, Eva, and Elphaba. I happen to have a son with cerebral palsy and a daughter who is autistic. Eva I wrote in honor of her. Her mannerisms and her speech are pretty much the same, however I also included a bit of another child I have observed for years when I helped my sister teach preschool. That said, it is not my intention to upset anyone with her being in the story, but her being autistic is a little important to the storyline.

As soon as Kurt and Blaine walked back into the trailer, Finn confronted them.  
  
"He offered you a house?" Finn sounded frantic, "In Los Angeles? And you turned him down!?"  
  
Kurt's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Finn Christopher Hudson, Jr.!" Kurt said sternly. "Were you listening in on our conversation?"  
  
Dave walked in at the sound of Finn being called by his full name.  
  
"Finn..." Kurt tried to stay calm, knowing how the boy felt. "I can't just accept Blaine's offer. There are things you don't understand."  
  
"I'm not stupid, Kurt!" Finn was beside himself, like he was trying to climb out of a hole that was collapsing around him. "I know about adult problems!"  
  
"No, Finn." Kurt tried to assuage Finn. "You don't understand. You're just a little boy. You're not supposed to understand."  
  
"I do understand!" Finn yelled. "I understand that you're being stupid!"  
  
Kurt jerked back, as if the boy had just slapped him in the face.  
  
"Finn!" Dave interjected firmly. "That was uncalled for. Apologize right now!"  
  
"I won't apologize! What he's doing is wrong! Do you think my parents wanted us to live like this!?" Finn was crying. Kurt watched in horror, feeling every tear as it ran down Finn's cheek burn his own skin.  
  
The adults continued to argue, continued to try and calm Finn down. Barbra was in their bedroom playing video games, not really concerned with the happenings of the various tall people inhabiting the house. Elphaba had drifted to sleep, but awoke now at the sound of fighting, and whimpered, raising her arms, looking for comfort. Inside poor Eva's head, her thoughts were spinning. Everything was suddenly too loud. Too much, too loud. Too much yelling, too loud. Finn yelling, Uncle Kurt talking, Uncle Dave talking, the strange man talking, baby yelling, too loud. It was so loud her eyes hurt. So loud it made the lights too bright. So loud she almost couldn't move. Eva panicked. She wanted to roll into a ball, but there was no place to sit. She slapped the side of her head with her hand, hoping to stop the noise, stop the lights, stop the pounding. There were only two things she could do: drop to the ground and scream the noise away, or run. She chose run.  
  
Eva bolted down the hall and out the back door. She just had to get to the front yard where things were open, and quiet and the air was cool and the lights weren't as bright. As soon as Eva's legs started going they were hard to stop. She bolted into the street, arms spread wide, hoping she could go fast enough to take flight.  
  
She didn't see the car coming her way.  
  
Inside the house, Kurt suddenly got a chill. Time slowed down as many things registered at once - all of them sounds. Babbling...feet running...the back door slamming as the breeze blew it shut...the creak of wood...the screech of car tires...a dull thud.  
  
Kurt didn't need to hear the screaming to know what had happened.  
  
Crying and sweating he bolted from the group still arguing and raced outside screaming.  
  
"Eva! Eva! Oh my God! Eva!"  
  
"I'm sorry!" the driver of the car, the friend of a neighbor, cried as he bolted from his Honda. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see her!"  
  
"Call 9-1-1!" Kurt yelled, knowing that Blaine and Dave had run out behind him, feeling their wide eyes staring at him.  
  
Eva's shrill scream was deafening. Kurt knelt by her side, but he didn't know what to do, didn't know how to touch her or comfort her. Even when she wasn't hurt, touching Eva was a tricky business. Luckily, she had never been seriously sick or injured. He never had to make a plan for what to do if such a tragedy occurred. Eva was considered off the spectrum as far as autism was concerned. Kurt and Dave had always been told that she would most likely outgrow a lot of her symptoms.  
  
Kurt prayed every day that nothing tremendous would happen until then.  
  
But then things weren't always in Kurt's control.  
  
Even Kurt's dominatrix, who always helped him in times of trouble, had run and hid. _Stupid useless bitch._  
  
Kurt hummed and cooed, trying to get the little girl to settle down, but nothing helped. Her eyes were huge and unseeing brown pools, darting around wildly at the many faces that had gathered to help. From the corner of his eye, Kurt could see his next door neighbors standing in the distance, arms crossed, shaking their heads judgmentally. They turned and walked back to their house, one with a cell phone in hand.  
  
An ambulance, a fire truck, and a police officer arrived in no time, and the crowd dispersed to let the EMTs get through. Kurt could vaguely hear a cop talking to the driver of the Honda, Dave talking with Blaine, Finn crying softly. The EMTs loaded Eva's rigid body onto a gurney, wheeling her toward the ambulance. Kurt was about to climb in when he realized just how frightened he was. He was bombarded by too many vivid images at once - his mom on her death bed, Dave in the hospital, his dad in a coma after his heart attack, visiting Rachel and Finn in the morgue. It was all too much. He stood on the lip at the back of the ambulance, his eyes searching the many faces, tears clouding his vision, his mouth moving as he tried to call to anyone for help.  
  
He saw Dave a little more clearly than anyone else, holding the baby with Barbra and Finn clutching his sides, looking just as helpless as Kurt, mouth moving with words Kurt couldn't hear as he shook his head. He remembered Dave looking that same way once before, except he was wearing a black suit instead of his t-shirt and jeans, and the kids were dressed in their best Sunday clothes.  
  
Then there was Blaine, and Kurt saw it. The thing that Kurt was missing right now. Strength. Calm. Determination. Blaine gently took Dave's head in his hands. Kurt couldn't hear their words, only saw Blaine's lips move and Dave nod, closing his eyes as tears streamed down his face. Blaine patted Dave firmly on the back, giving him a brief hug. Blaine locked eyes with Kurt, pointing to his own black car and Kurt knew. Blaine was coming with him.  
  
Kurt found the will to move, climbing into the back of the ambulance and sitting beside the gurney as the EMT closed the back behind him.

* * *

  
Everything at the emergency room blurred together, and Kurt couldn't do anything but switch to autopilot and let it wash over him, around him, like the ocean waves not so long ago when Kurt would sit and stare at the water, sated by his time with Blaine, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
These waves didn't soothe - they beeped and blinked and sometimes rang out harshly. Kurt's heart broke for little Eva, who couldn't stand bright lights and loud noises.  
  
Kurt thought she would just cry herself to unconsciousness, but Eva didn't. She was rigid and tense and completely uncooperative until a sympathetic nurse finally gave her something to calm her down. Kurt sat beside Eva, watching as her face relaxed, her eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing became calm. Kurt appraised her broken body and gasped. Her leg was definitely broken.  
  
Blaine found his way into the room they had put Eva and Kurt. Kurt wasn't sure how he had charmed them into letting him in, but he wasn't in the mood to ask. He was just happy that Blaine could be there.  
  
Blaine's heart sank when he saw Kurt sitting by little Eva's bedside, holding her hand, rubbing soothing circles into the tiny girl's skin as she slept. Blaine sat beside him, putting a comforting hand on Kurt's knee, trying hard not to burden him, just be there for him.  
  
Blaine had never seen Kurt looking so vulnerable - not when he had left him at the hotel, not when he was sitting on the steps at the gala, not even when Blaine showed up to his house unannounced. Blaine took for granted so often that his swan was always so strong for everyone else. He wore his courage like a badge on his skin.  
  
Eventually a doctor came and took Eva to another room so that he could set her leg. Kurt and Blaine sat alone in the hallway waiting. Kurt looked lost; so incredibly lost. Blaine didn't know how to reach him.  
  
Blaine texted Dave to let him know they were in the hospital and they were okay. Blaine bought Kurt a cup of coffee that he held in his hands but didn't drink, just staring at the cup as if he wasn't exactly sure what it was or how it had gotten into his hands.  
  
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Kurt started crying. Blaine put an arm around him, but he wouldn't look up, and he wouldn't move. He sobbed uncontrollably, inconsolably. It seemed to Blaine that Kurt was crying over more than just a little girl with a broken leg. He was crying over a man, in many ways little more than a boy, with a broken life. And he was right. Blaine ran his hand down Kurt's back, and around in soothing circles.  
  
Blaine wasn't sure why he said it.  
  
"Tell me something about yourself that I don't already know."  
  
Blaine half expected Kurt to look up from his hands and give Blaine his, "Are you kidding me?" glare.  
  
Instead, Kurt started talking, and once he did, he couldn't stop.  
  
"I didn't want any of this," Kurt sobbed, his voice high-pitched and broken. "And sometimes I hate it all so much."  
  
Kurt turned his face, eyes puffy and red, to finally look at Blaine. Blaine looked back, his own eyes soft and encouraging, ready to shoulder the burden of Kurt's confession. Kurt shook his head.  
  
"I used to live in New York. I was going to NYADA. I was an intern at _Vogue_. I designed my own clothes. I sang every day. There were so many roads ahead of me. I was so happy..."  
  
Blaine handed Kurt a napkin. Kurt put down the coffee cup and blew his nose, not even caring at how uncouth it seemed.  
  
"I was so naive to think it was all going to last."  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt and for the first time saw someone a lot like himself - with talent, drive, and overwhelming ambition...who just became stuck. Inside Blaine's chest he felt something break.  
  
"I don't know what I'm doing," Kurt whispered. "I don't know anything about being a parent. At heart...I'm a selfish bitch..."  
  
Blaine chuckled a little. Kurt snapped his head up to look at him.  
  
"It's true," Kurt continued, pleading with Blaine to believe him. "I didn't want kids. I didn't want Dave. I was so mad at Finn and Rachel for dying. So mad..."  
  
Kurt's body trembled. He gripped the napkin so hard it bit into his fingers. They started to bleed. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and held a clean napkin to the wound, but Kurt barely noticed.  
  
"My dad and Carole try and help me...give me advice. They're great, but they've never had disabled kids. They were going to take the kids on weekends, but they're pretty far away, and then my dad had another heart attack..." Kurt waved a hand in front of his face, as if physically pushing the subject away. "Rachel's dads had moved to Greece before she died, so they can't really help. I haven't seen my dad since they died. Now, we're here, and I hate it..."  
  
The last words out of Kurt's mouth were a growl, and it chilled Blaine to hear.  
  
"We're dirt poor no matter how hard we work, and we live in that p.o.s. trailer that should have been condemned decades ago, and our hateful asshole neighbors call child protective services almost every day..."  
  
Kurt sighed. Blaine had put an arm around Kurt's shoulder, but he didn't realize he'd been squeezing until Kurt shifted out of his grasp uncomfortably.  
  
"So, you see, Blaine, it would be so easy to accept your offer and move to that house of yours in L. A. But, that's a pretty big rug you're offering us, and if it got yanked away...those kids..."  
  
Kurt shook his head, putting his face back in his hands while Blaine looked at the blank wall ahead. The man he was a few months ago would have probably found the nearest exit and run. The man he was today, made stronger by Kurt's willingness to love him, wanted nothing more than to see Kurt smile again, wanted to wrap his arms around him - all of them - and carry them away from all of this to a place of safety. He just had to figure out how to get Kurt to accept his offer.

* * *

  
Blaine didn't know how long they sat, wrapped in each others' arms, before a nurse wheeled little Eva out to them, setting her in front of them, facing them. She was still sleeping peacefully, her head lolled onto one shoulder. Her right leg was completely encased in a giant cast, wrapped over with bright pink tape.  
  
"Mr. Hummel," the nurse spoke gently. Kurt turned to look at the woman who reminded him so much of Carole. "Before we can release Eva, I need to go over some paper work with you."  
  
"Oh." Kurt looked at Eva, then at Blaine. "I guess I could..."  
  
Kurt reached out for the wheelchair, but Blaine stopped him.  
  
"Leave her," Blaine offered. "I'll keep an eye on her."  
  
"Are you sure?" Kurt asked around a yawn.  
  
"Yes, Kurt." Blaine slapped his hand playfully with a smile. "Now go. I'll let Dave know we're coming home."  
  
Kurt smiled when he turned to leave, wondering if Blaine realized what he had just said.  
  
Blaine looked over the poor girl in the wheelchair. So much going on in her head that no one seemed to understand. Blaine hoped against hope that someday Kurt could find the answer. If anyone could do it, Kurt definitely could.  
  
Blaine pulled out his iPhone and squinted at the bright screen.  
  
 _2:45 a.m._  
  
Jesus Christ. Wasn't it just three in the afternoon not a little while ago? How did it get so late? Blaine had a ton of missed messages, but when he noticed who they were all from, he cleared them all without opening a single one.  
  
He started to compose his text to Dave, shuddering a little at the sound of his keypad tone as he pressed the letters.  
  
 _'Ugh, that's loud.'_  
  
Blaine heard a tiny whimper as Eva reacted to the sound of his phone beeping.  
  
 _'Oh, no.'_  
  
Blaine shushed her gently, not wanting her to wake up, and not just because she was hurt. Blaine knew she could be slightly volatile, and he didn't know how to handle her. He felt, in some ways, like he was babysitting a tiny grenade. He wanted to know Eva, he just needed Kurt to tell him how.  
  
The girl opened two brown eyes, blinking slowly, and looked at him. She cocked her head as she looked over his face. Blaine expected her to come to completely and, realizing Kurt was no where to be seen, start screaming.  
  
But she only looked at him in a curious way. Her eyes swept back and forth over his hair, curls sticking out in almost all directions from the amount of times he had run his hands through his hair. Eva raised a hand and pulled at her own curls. Then she reached a slow, shaky hand towards Blaine. Blaine squinted his eyes as he looked at Eva. Then he realized what she was looking at. His hair was curly, alot like hers. No one else in the house had curly hair. Blaine leaned over cautiously, and let the little girl run her fingers through his hair. She grabbed one curl in particular and tugged on it gently, letting go and watching it bounce back into place. When he heard the girl giggle he looked up and smiled.  
  
"Like me," she said clearly. "Your hair, like me."  
  
Blaine's smile widened.  
  
"Yeah," he said in response. "I have curly hair like you."  
  
Eva giggled again, dancing her fingers through his hair. When she seemed to have her fill of playing with his curls, she tapped on his forehead, a silent indicator for him to sit up. Blaine did, looking at Eva with a bright smile as she wiggled her fingers and pointed at him.  
  
"Blaine like Eva all the time, everyday, all morning," the tired girl mumbled brightly.  
  
Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
"You know my name," Blaine said matter-of-factly.  
  
Eva nodded.  
  
"All the time, everyday, all morning."  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
Eva reached out a hand, and Blaine tentatively took it, moving forward in his chair to get a little closer to the girl.  
  
"Blaine and Eva," Eva repeated, closing her eyes, and putting Blaine's hand to her face.  
  
"All the time..." she yawned. "Every day...all morning."  
  
Soon, Eva drifted back to sleep, still clutching Blaine's hand.  
  
Blaine heard a soft gasp and turned to see Kurt staring at them with tears in his eyes.  
  



	29. Chapter 29

Eva almost wouldn't let go of Blaine's hand as they loaded her into his car. Kurt sat beside her in the back seat, cheek resting against her head of curls, smiling to himself. Blaine drove slowly through the deserted streets so as not to jar the little girl.  
  
"I've never seen that," Kurt whispered reverently, looking at Blaine through the rear view mirror. "I've never seen her touch anyone like that...talk to anyone like that."  
  
"What does it mean?" Blaine asked. "When she says 'all the time, everyday, all morning'?"  
  
"It's her way of telling time," Kurt answered. "But when she uses them all together, we think it means 'forever'."  
  
Blaine felt the broken pieces of his heart start to stitch back together.  
  
"How does she know my name?" Blaine smiled slyly. He had a feeling he knew the answer. He just enjoyed watching Kurt shift uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes rolling upward as he looked anywhere but Blaine's eyes.  
  
"Um...we...well, they're...you know...big fans of the show..." Kurt looked out the window, flushing red.  
  
Suddenly, Kurt frowned.  
  
"Crap!" Kurt barked louder than he intended, causing Eva to whimper in her sleep.  
  
"What?" Blaine thought maybe Kurt had forgotten something back at the emergency room.  
  
"What am I going to do tomorrow when she wakes up and you're not there?"  
  
Blaine had to tread carefully.  
  
"It would probably be helpful if I was...you know...around more."  
  
Kurt wanted to be pissed, but he couldn't help the smile that was growing on his lips.  
  
"Blaine Anderson!" Kurt's whisper was harsh but barely angry. "Do not try to get to me through my kids. That's low and cheap."  
  
Blaine bit his lip, trying not to smile.  
  
His swan was back.  
  
Kurt sighed, smiling out the window.  
  
"You know I'm most likely going to say yes, don't you?"  
  
"Take all the time you need, my love," Blaine said as he turned down Kurt's street. "I'll wait for you as long as you need."  
  


* * *

  
  
Dave was waiting in the car port when Kurt and Blaine pulled in. Dave lifted Eva from the backseat as if she weighed no more than a leaf, and carried her inside. Blaine stood with Kurt, staring at him thoughtfully.  
  
"Can I have your shirt?" Kurt asked, looking Blaine over up and down. Blaine raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Um..." Blaine narrowed his eyes.  
  
Kurt shook his head, laughing.  
  
"For Eva," Kurt said. "She attaches meaning to things. She saw you wearing that shirt...and it smells like you. If she could borrow it, she might not be as upset when she wakes up in the morning."  
  
Blaine didn't have to hear another word before he shrugged off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, and slipped it off, handing it to Kurt. Kurt held it to his nose a breathed in deeply.  
  
"Yup," Kurt said with a dreamy look on his face. "I think that'll do it."  
  
Kurt looked up at Blaine, staring at Kurt with the softest expression he had ever seen in Blaine's beautiful honey gold colored eyes. Blaine hooked a finger beneath Kurt's chin, lifting Kurt's lips to his and kissing him gently. Blaine sucked Kurt's upper lip tenderly between his, moving his hand behind Kurt's head and massaging his neck. Kurt hummed against Blaine's lips. smiling. Blaine broke their kiss, but didn't move away from Kurt, nuzzling his cheek.  
  
"I'll wait for you forever," Blaine said against Kurt's skin. "But please, for my sake, don't make me wait too long."  
  
Kurt looked up at Blaine quizzically.  
  
"Why?" Kurt asked, rubbing their noses together.  
  
"Because," Blaine said. "When you finally find what you want to do with the rest of your life, you want it to start as soon as possible."  
  
Kurt laughed a little incredulously.  
  
"So, you want to spend your life with me and four kids?"  
  
"Yes," Blaine said, without a thought.  
  
Kurt's face suddenly went serious.  
  
"And Dave?"  
  
Kurt held his breath, waiting for what, he didn't know. An argument, most likely. An ultimatum? A groan?  
  
"Yes," Blaine said. "You, and the kids, and Dave...all of it."  
  
Kurt stood back a little, lips parted, not entirely certain that Blaine wasn't making fun of him. Blaine's eyes were clear, honest, serious.  
  
Blaine hugged Kurt tight.  
  
"Go talk to Dave," Blaine said. He kissed Kurt on the forehead before climbing into his car and driving away, leaving Kurt standing in the carport, hugging Blaine's shirt, Dave watching from the window.  
  
  


* * *

  
As soon as Eva woke up in the morning, she asked about Blaine. Kurt tried to explain that Blaine had gone home, but she wouldn't hear of it. She was upset that she couldn't get up and walk from room to room looking for him. Kurt eventually gave her Blaine's shirt, which she held to her mouth while sucking her thumb and repeated, "Blaine's white shirt. Blaine's white shirt."  
  
Kurt had Eva set up in the family bedroom, propped up against pillows, surrounded by various different bowls of food, and a portable DVD player showing non-stop episodes of Sing...mostly the ones that featured Blaine.  
  
Dave scoffed when he saw her, holding the shirt for dear life and trying her best to sing along with the words to the songs.  
  
 _'Just another person in my house obsessed with Blaine Anderson,'_ he thought with a silent laugh.  
  
It seemed the tiny family had overcome another tragedy and had come out unscathed, with a glimmer of hope hanging in the future.  
  
Another unexpected visit brought unpleasant news right to their backdoor.  
  
Kurt heard a loud rapping at the door and smiled, wondering if it was another impromptu visit from Mr. Blaine Anderson himself.  
  
To Kurt's absolute horror it was Ms. Delilah Cooper, known to Kurt Hummel as the bane of his existence, known professionally as an agent of Child Protective Services.  
  
"Mr. Hummel," the straight laced and severe little woman began, "let me be perfectly plain. My office has received dozens of complaints about you, and this...house...you live in." Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes as he lifted Elphaba higher on his hip. "Your source of income is questionable, your living environment is detestable. If I pursue opening an investigation, it won't take much for me to remove all of your children and put them into foster care, guardianship or no..."  
  
Kurt gritted his teeth and wondered how was it possible for his blood to go hot and cold all at the same time. He was aware that Ms. Cooper was still talking, but he had tuned her out entirely. He wanted to call her out. Removing his children wouldn't be as easy as she was letting on. Kurt wondered how many other poor families she had threatened this way. He didn't know what she wanted from him. He and Dave were trying their best. Did she really think they wanted to live this way?  
  
And their neighbors...what would be a fitting punishment for their constant interfering? Boiling bunnies...or in this case, their twin precious Chihuahuas, seemed like a reasonable option. Kurt recognized that to a degree Ms. Cooper was right. Their living environment was horrendous. The kids deserved better. He wanted to give them better.  
  
Kurt was standing on a precipice. He had to make a decision he didn't want to be shoved into making. He had asked Blaine for time, and Blaine had given it to him. It seemed the universe, however, didn't agree. Kurt sighed.  
  
"...and since you are on public assistance..."  
  
"Well, actually, Ms. Cooper," Kurt interrupted, "we're not going to be living here much longer." Kurt shifted Elphaba to his left hip. Dave, who had been watching the proceedings silently from the hallway, hidden from view, peeked around the doorway, his face a solid mask, trying not to betray his confusion. Ms. Cooper's face was a bit more obvious.  
  
"You're not?" she said skeptically.  
  
"No," Kurt said firmly. "Dave and I have been offered an opportunity by a generous friend. We're moving by the end of the week."  
  
"Where?" Ms. Cooper said.  
  
"I don't feel comfortable telling you that." Kurt held his head up high, defiantly.  
  
"What?" Ms. Cooper asked, looking as if Kurt had just spit in her face.  
  
"Well, as we will no longer be in San Diego, or receiving public assistance, I don't see how our whereabouts will be any of your business."  
  
When Kurt refused to tell her anything further, she simply stood and stared. Kurt stared back, silently challenging her to speak.  
  
"Well," Kurt said, "as lovely as this has been, I have a move to plan, and as this is still my property for a little while longer, please get off of it."  
  
The woman huffed and sputtered a couple of times, like an old car trying to start, before turning on her heels and stomping off.  
  
Kurt watched as she tromped swiftly to her government vehicle and drove away. Then he slammed the door, apologizing furiously when Elphaba threw her hands over her ears and whined at the noise. When he turned around, Dave stood there.  
  
"You're going to take him up on his offer?" Dave asked quietly. "You and the kids...are going to move?"  
  
Dave liked Blaine. He hated to admit it, but he did. He knew that Blaine was willing to try and make things work with the kids. He just wasn't sure how he fit into all of this. He didn't want to stand in Kurt's way, but he wasn't looking forward to losing his family, either.  
  
Kurt went up to Dave. He put a hand on his shoulder and rested his own head on it.  
  
" _We_ , Dave," Kurt said with emphasis. " _We_ are going to move. We are taking him up on his offer. This is going to be good. I feel it."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Dave," Kurt said firmly. "Tell me you're happy here. Tell me you're happy selling car insurance for minimum wage, not going to school, not following your dream, living in this shit house, and being threatened by that woman every other day. Tell me you want all of that, and I won't call him."  
  
Dave looked down at his feet and shook his head.  
  
Kurt hoped he sounded convincing, because to his own ears he wasn't exactly sure.  
  
  


* * *

  
_Ring._  
  
Kurt's stomach flip-flopped.  
  
 _Ring._  
  
He prayed Blaine would answer.  
  
 _Ring._  
  
He needed Blaine to answer.  
  
"Kurt?" a surprised voice said.  
  
"Blaine?" Kurt cursed the slight tremor in his voice, overwhelmed by his feelings of relief. He hoped it wasn't too noticeable.  
  
"Kurt? Is that you? Are you okay? Is it Eva?"  
  
Kurt cleared his throat.  
  
"Everything's okay." Kurt composed himself. "I just---I just have a question to ask you."  
  
"Anything." Blaine sounded so sincere, Kurt's heart melted.  
  
"Is that offer for the house..."  
  
Kurt could hear Blaine's breath hitch suddenly.  
  
"I mean, it's real, right? You'd let us move in?"  
  
"Of course," Blaine rushed. "Of course, it's real. Whenever you want to move in, it's there waiting."  
  
"Okay," Kurt said, breathing a sigh of relief. "We need to move as soon as possible, if that's okay with you."  
  
On Blaine's end of the phone he stood up from his chair and started dancing like a thirteen year old girl at a One Direction concert.  
  
"Yes." Blaine realized he was so busy dancing he had forgotten he was still talking to Kurt. "Yes, immediately, or sooner is great."  
  
Kurt giggled through his tears.  
  
"Will it be alright if I come up tomorrow to take a look?"  
  
"Yup," Blaine said, almost answering before Kurt had finished with his question. "Oh, do you need any help, hiring movers or anything?"  
  
"Uh, no." Kurt smiled at Blaine's apparent enthusiasm. "I have suddenly come into a great deal of money and I think I'll be okay getting that done."  
  
Blaine's heart melted. He closed his eyes and spun around.  
  
Kurt took the money. Kurt was moving to L.A.  
  
Blaine would get his Kurt.  
  
Suddenly, Blaine wanted to scream.  
  
He may have squealed.  
  
Kurt laughed.  
  
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then."  
  
Blaine was so excited he didn't know what to do with himself. He had to call his best friends and tell them the great news. Oh, Nick will be beside himself...better wait on that.  
  
He had to go air out the house.  
  
He had to make all sorts of arrangements.  
  
But first, he had to run around the block.  
  
So that's what he did.  
  



	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for masturbation.

Kurt and Dave took the kids out and bought a new second-hand car and van, bidding a not so fond farewell to their old vehicles. As the old cars were towed away, they reminisced almost affectionately over every flat tire, every time they ran out of gas, or the time they couldn't turn the car alarm off and the battery died.  
  
Kurt and Dave spent the remainder of the day boxing things up, sorting through old broken toys and throwing away things they wouldn't need. It was almost like going over the last few years of their lives, seeing which memories they wanted to keep, and which memories were okay to let go. They worked mostly in silence, happy for the most part, relieved and scared for another, but also trying not to acknowledge the fact that they were moving towards something that was pulling Kurt and Dave farther and farther apart.  
  
_If only I hadn't rescued that damned suit,_ Dave mused wryly to himself. He knew it wasn't that. As far as Dave was concerned, anyone who didn't fall in love with Kurt Hummel at first glance was either blind, stupid, or dead.

* * *

  
Kurt couldn't sleep that night. He went over plans in his head, then he wrote them down on the calendar. He hired a moving company to box up the majority of the things that wouldn't be packed up on time. He sent a mass email to everyone on his contact list letting them know he was moving. He called the rec center so that they could arrange for a new instructor. He entered the address Blaine had sent him into Google maps. He Skyped his dad and Carole to tell them the good news. He laid out his clothes for the next day.  
  
All in all, Kurt Hummel had been a busy boy. So why couldn't he sleep?  
  
He knew exactly why.  
  
That reason woke him up in the form of an extremely vivid dream at 3 a.m. and he abandoned himself to the new van to give Blaine a call.  
  
Blaine answered on the first ring.  
  
"Is it horrible to say that I kind of expected you to call?" Blaine teased, sounding wide awake as well.  
  
"Am I that predictable?" Kurt whined pitifully.  
  
Blaine laughed out loud.  
  
"If I was going to pick any word to describe you, Kurt Hummel, predictable would be no where on that list."  
  
Kurt chuckled. Blaine smiled.  
  
"You sound happy, gorgeous," Blaine commented.  
  
"I think I am," Kurt said. "I'm excited. I feel like a weight is finally being lifted from my shoulders. And..."  
  
Kurt's words drifted off as he tried to chase his beautiful dream.  
  
"And..." Blaine bit his lip.  
  
"I miss you," Kurt admitted with a bashful smile.  
  
"Really?" Blaine's voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "How much?"  
  
Kurt giggled, a little high and hushed.  
  
"Enough that things are about to get a little embarrassing in this van."  
  
Blaine pulled off his pajamas and shifted under his sheets, enjoying the feel of the cool cotton sheets against his naked, overheated skin.  
  
"Could you do me a favor, gorgeous?" Blaine was almost too embarrassed to ask.  
  
"Sure, sweetheart." Kurt shifted against the seat, warm and more comfortable than the old vinyl van seat had been.  
  
"Could you...talk to me?" Blaine almost pulled the covers completely over his head after the words left his lips.  
  
"Talk to you?" Kurt smiled. "Talk to you how, sweetheart?"  
  
"I don't know," Blaine said. "You don't have to say anything in particular, I guess. I just want to hear your voice, so I..."  
  
Kurt beamed as he heard Blaine stammer.  
  
"Weren't you the one who made fun of me last time I called you at three in the morning for not being able to admit I had a wet dream?" Kurt teased. "And now you're the one too embarrassed to ask me to have phone sex with you."  
  
Blaine whimpered.  
  
"Kuurrrttt," Blaine whined, hand hovering just an inch or so away from his own erection, waiting for his black swan's say so.  
  
"Okay." Kurt's voice slid to his own seductive whisper. Hearing it made Blaine shiver, and he took his own length in his hand. He sighed in relief. Blaine dreamed of Kurt's voice at night, when he had no other source of release than his own hand. Lately, though, it wasn't enough. He had started buying his own toys, searching out the same prostate toy Kurt had used on him, daydreaming he was back at their little bungalow on the beach, being tortured and tormented by his beautiful black swan.  
  
When he finally unpacked his bag from his trip to San Diego and found the leather riding crop, he locked himself away for the evening, experimenting with new ways of 'punishing himself'. He kind of felt like he was cheating on his dom, but three orgasms later he was too tired and sated to feel guilty.  
  
Wickedly he wondered how badly he'd be punished if he let that information slip.  
  
His cock twitched in his hand at the thought of Kurt in his vinyl catsuit, holding him down by his hair, whipping him with that riding crop till he came...and most likely blacked out.  
  
"What are you doing right now, Blaine?"  
  
Kurt's satin voice slipped sinfully into his fantasy. Blaine stroked himself slowly and moaned.  
  
Kurt smiled. He giggled seductively, his voice dropping just a bit as he whispered in Blaine's ear.  
  
"I think I could probably guess, sweetheart. But I need you to tell me."  
  
Blaine's throat became dry. He wasn't quite as comfortable being vocal the way Kurt was, but he wanted to try. He wanted to enjoy this fantasy, live in it whenever his beautiful black swan couldn't be with him, though he hoped that soon that wouldn't be an issue.  
  
He needed Kurt back in his bed as much as he needed to breathe. Kurt had become food and water to him. His friend Wes had been concerned that he and Kurt hadn't known each other very long, and Blaine was already talking about starting a life together. But Blaine figured that's the way things went with soulmates. There was no concept of time. Slow, fast, never, forever - they were all just words with no meaning. That's how he felt about Kurt. Now or later, today or tomorrow, none of it really mattered when you found the one person that completed you so perfectly. When you found that person, that one person, wouldn't it be more asinine to deny their existence than it would be to hold them till the day you die?  
  
"Tell me, Blaine," Kurt pleaded softly, not the overbearing dominatrix, but Kurt. Not angel or swan, just a beautiful man who loved Blaine with all his heart.  
  
"Kurt...I...ugh." Blaine blew out a sigh of frustration. Kurt giggled again.  
  
"Have you ever done this before?" Kurt asked, his voice light, airy, and not at all condescending.  
  
"No, I..." Blaine squirmed a little, letting go of his cock and fisting the sheets instead. Other lovers of Blaine's had tried phone sex with him, but it just came off sounding ridiculous, and he would hang up in the middle, giggling like mad.  
  
"That's okay." Kurt's voice was soft and encouraging. "Don't be embarrassed. It's not as easy as they make it seem on t.v. Just listen to my voice, and do what I tell you, okay?"  
  
Blaine whimpered and nodded, forgetting for a moment that Kurt wasn't right there with him.  
  
"How about we put your phone on speaker?" Kurt suggested. Blaine switched his phone to speaker and put it on the pillow beside him.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt began, "I want you to lie on your back, and close your eyes. Can you do that for me?"  
  
"Yes," Blaine breathed. He lay on his back and closed his eyes, surrendering to the dark, waiting for his fantasy to begin.  
  
"Now, imagine I'm there with you. Don't over think it, just pretend I'm lying beside you."  
  
Blaine took a deep breath, letting it out slowly between pursed lips.  
  
"Okay, gorgeous," Blaine said.  
  
"I want you to enjoy your body the way I enjoy it," Kurt said. "I want you to take your cock in your hand. Imagine it's my hand holding you, caressing you, stroking you slowly."  
  
Blaine wrapped his fingers securely around his erection. Slowly, he started to stroke the way Kurt did - long, lazy strokes from base to head, tightening his grip at the top and twisting just a little, then back down to the base.  Blaine's breath hitched in his throat.  
  
"Oh..." he moaned, not consciously. The word slipped through his lips before he could catch it back.  
  
Kurt's cock twitched in response. He crossed his legs, squeezing his knees hard to calm his own desires, to focus on Blaine. It was difficult, because ever since the gala he daydreamed about making love to Blaine, listening to his moans of pleasure at Kurt's hands, watching Blaine fall apart as Kurt moved in and out of him slowly, smoothly.  
  
"When I'm with you," Kurt continued, breathing a little more heavy, "I love running my fingers through your hair. If I was with you, my fingers would be twisting around your curls, tugging them lightly. Can you do that for me, Blaine? Can you run your fingers through your hair?"  
  
Blaine raised a hand, running his fingertips over his skin on their way to his head, skimming gently over a nipple, which elicited another moan. Kurt trapped a hand between his clenched knees to keep himself still. Blaine's fingers caught in his hair, his nails scratching lightly over his scalp. He grabbed at a handful of his own curls and tugged lightly.  
  
"Oh, Kurt..." he breathed, inhaling sharply as he tugged again.  
  
_'Oh dear God,'_ Kurt thought. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to think of all the things that could kill his own hard on. He knew dead puppies didn't work. What else? What else was there?  
  
Blaine moaned again, softly, almost a small plea, and Kurt gave up. He slowly snaked his hand into his pants and grabbed his cock, stroking slowly. He hissed as his skin came in contact with the cold air, but it only seemed to make him harder.  
  
"Kurt..." Blaine said, panting lightly, "are you...?"  
  
"Yes, Blaine," Kurt moaned. "I'm sorry. I can't help it. Your sexy voice...and you're moaning my name...and I need to have you so much..."  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Blaine begged.  
  
"Oh God Blaine!" Listening to Blaine beg unhinged Kurt. "Move your hand faster. Stroke yourself harder. I'm dying here without your beautiful cock. I need you to worship it for me."  
  
Blaine's back arched off the bed. He pushed the sheet off his body, all of a sudden too hot, too tight around him. He caught his own reflection in his mirror, his muscles tight along his arm as he pumped his cock, his other hand carding through his curls, his lips parted as he panted.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine asked, staring at the image of him pleasing himself, unable to look away. "Nngh...what do you see when you look at me?"  
  
Kurt breathed a relaxed sigh and smiled.  
  
"That's easy." Kurt fell into a steady beat, trying to match the rhythm he could hear of Blaine's bed creaking over the phone. "I see your gorgeous eyes that melt and look like honey when I turn you on...I see your beautiful smile, that brightens up your whole face..."  
  
Kurt squeezed his cock right beneath the head and moaned.  
  
"Nngh," Kurt moaned. He couldn't help himself as he bucked up into his own fist. The image of Blaine in his mind was so clear. Blaine's eyes gazing down lovingly on Kurt's face, his soft lips smiling against Kurt's skin after he kissed him, like a signature branding Kurt's flesh. Blaine's perfect white teeth when he bit Kurt tentatively on the neck, or more confidently on his shoulder - the beautiful stinging pain that sent shivers down his spine. Kurt cried out at the intense memory of Blaine's weight against him, his hands on Kurt's body.  
  
"But...most of all..." Kurt panted, so close to his orgasm. "Most of all, I see the handsome man I fell in love with. The kind, compassionate, loving, talented, amaz---"  
  
Kurt came over his fist, and it took the words out of his mouth. Kurt dropped his phone on the seat as he reached up to run his hand through his hair, wrapping his fingers around a fistful of his locks and pulling sharply. His back arched as he bucked up into his fist a few more times, clenching his teeth tight to keep from screaming.  
  
His phone had fallen somewhere around his right ear, wedging itself into the seam of the seat. He could hear Blaine moaning, calling out for Kurt, crying out loud through his own release.  
  
The squeaking of the bed ceased. Blaine's moaning stopped.  
  
"Blaine?"  
  
Kurt wiped his hand on the hem of his shirt and then carefully picked up his phone.  
  
"Blaine, sweetheart?" Kurt called to his boyfriend. He could hear gentle pants and soft breaths.  
  
"Oh, darling," Kurt said, "please tell me you didn't black out again."  
  
Kurt heard Blaine chuckle.  
  
"You forgot...my ass," Blaine panted breathlessly.  
  
Kurt laughed, cringing at the feeling of quickly cooling cum against his hot skin.  
  
"You're right, Blaine," Kurt laughed, tying the end of his shirt in a knot to keep it away from his skin. "I'm sorry. You have a fine ass."  
  
"Thank you," Blaine said. "I think so, too."  
  
"Did that help?" Kurt asked.  
  
"Yes and no." Blaine sighed. "On one hand, I can't wait to do that again. On the other, it just makes me miss you more. I'm going to bed alone."  
  
Kurt closed his eyes, imagining Blaine alone in his bed, hugging his pillow as he lay on his stomach, staring at his phone in the spot where Kurt should be.  
  
"Just another couple of hours," Kurt reassured him, "and you can have me any way you want me."  
  



	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter pays hommage to another amazing fanfic, Painted on my Skin by Phantom of a Rose. We learn more about Kurt's tattoo and the bruises they hide. Warning for rimming, and talk of violence and non-con.

The size of the house absolutely amazed Kurt. He never imagined they would be able to find a space that could accommodate everyone, and with room to spare. Kurt spun around in a circle, mouth dropped open as he took in the living area.  
  
"Dear God, Blaine!" Kurt commented in awe. "This is huge!"  
  
Blaine smiled as he watched Kurt look around, opening cabinet drawers and flipping light switches.  
  
"Electricity and gas should be turned on before Dave and the kids show up," Blaine said. "It has six bedrooms so you each get a room to yourselves...even you and Dave get your own room...you know...on opposite ends of the house." Kurt chuckled. "I'm having some people in tomorrow to clean and paint the walls white. That way you guys can do whatever you want with it."  
  
Kurt eyed the way-passed retro yellow and white vertical striped wallpaper.  
  
"Thank God," he muttered. Blaine smiled.  
  
"You know," Blaine said, taking Kurt's elbow to swing him into his arms, holding him tight, and leading him in a slow, swaying dance. "We should go room to room so you can tell me what you want done."  
  
"Blaine," Kurt said. "It's too much. I can't let you do that. It's bad enough you won't let me pay rent, and I..."  
  
Blaine silenced Kurt with a soft, slow kiss, nibbling Kurt's lips, top and bottom. He slipped a hand into Kurt's hair, tugging gently, pulling Kurt's head back, his mouth opening just slightly. Blaine's tongue stroked along Kurt's lips, dipping shallowly inside to gently graze his tongue. Blaine broke away slowly, watching as Kurt's eyes fluttered back open.  
  
"...don't want you to think that we're going to be living here for free forever. We need to come to some sort of arrangement so I can pay you back."  
  
Blaine laughed.  
  
"Man, you are determined, aren't you?" Blaine brushed a hair from Kurt's forehead, still dancing slowly back and forth.  
  
"I am not one to be derailed, Mr. Anderson," Kurt said as Blaine spun him out, and then dragged him back in.  
  
"Ooo," Blaine remarked. "Mr. Anderson. I like that. But I still don't understand why you won't just let me give the house to you." Blaine ran his hands up Kurt's back.  
  
"You know why," Kurt whispered, averting his gaze and looking down at the floor boards. He looked at the wood beneath his feet. A home...a real home. He hadn't had one since he had left his father's house in Ohio. He didn't like depending on Blaine...he didn't like depending on any one but himself. The kids didn't ask for the lot they had been given, and as heartbreaking as it had been to hear considering the source, Finn was right. His stepbrother and Rachel wouldn't have wanted their kids living the way they had been for so long. They needed this. They deserved this, and Kurt wasn't going to let his pride stand in the way of them being happy and comfortable.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Blaine said, bending down a little to catch Kurt's wistful gaze. Kurt's head snapped up.  
  
"I...I was just wondering what I was going to do for work out here," Kurt lied. "I guess I could see if there's a place nearby that needs an exercise instructor. Or a dominatrix. I mean, this is L. A. I'm pretty sure I can get a job as either one. I just don't know who I'd go to to build up a client base."  
  
"A client base?"  
  
Blaine had a blank expression on his face.  
  
"Yeah," Kurt said, a little embarrassed because he had considered asking Blaine to recommend him around. Blaine's eyes went dark, and Kurt knew he wasn't happy.  
  
"Actually...I was hoping you might consider working for me..."  
  
"You want to pay me to dominate you?" Now Kurt's eyes were dark.  
  
"No..." Blaine smiled. "I want you to dominate me because you want to...because I need you to...because you're mine and I'm yours and we love each other..."  
  
Kurt bit his lip and nodded.  
  
"But I was thinking that I could put you on my payroll," Blaine continued, "as a designer. And a consultant."  
  
Kurt's eyes went wide with confusion.  
  
"A designer? But I thought the studio chose your clothes mostly."  
  
"Only for the show," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand and leading him through the house. "I'm talking about for other things - red carpet events, premiers, tour junkets...all those things when I might want something original. Something that could help me, you know, standout. Though..." Blaine grimace slightly with a playful light dancing in his eyes.  
  
"Though, what?" Kurt asked as they entered the first room.  
  
"Well, that would mean spending time with Nick..."  
  
"Yes!" Kurt jumped. "I can totally do that. Can I start now?"  
  
Blaine frowned slightly. Kurt kissed Blaine's frowning lips with a laugh.  
  
"But, seriously. You want me to design clothes for you?" Kurt said in amazement.  
  
Kurt's face glowed. Designing clothes...clothes that people would see, worn by this gorgeous man, the idea gave Kurt chills. It was like the realization of a long lost dream. Blaine saw the idea blossom on Kurt's face and twinkle in his eyes, but then he shook his head.  
  
"But, I have to be here for Elphaba and Eva," Kurt said. "I can't leave here to go to a studio or an office."  
  
"Aaahhh..." Blaine raised a thoughtful finger. He took Kurt's hand. He led him out the back patio door and through the yard to a tiny building nestled under some large, overhanging trees.  
  
"You can work from here." Blaine opened the French double doors with a flourish. Kurt stepped inside the dusty space, illuminated only by tiny God rays peeking in through the dark black-out curtains.  
  
"Way back when I moved out here, I had just started acting." Blaine pulled the drapes open and let the sunlight flood in through the dusty windows. "But what I really wanted was to be a musician. I thought this would make a great studio." Blaine picked up an old drop cloth and started dusting off the panes in the windows. "But...it never happened."  
  
Kurt looked over the cozy space, and he was beginning to picture it - a drawing table here, a cutting table there, a dress form, some storage space. Kurt wanted to bounce up and down for joy.  
  
"Blaine Anderson, you make it really difficult to say no to you." Kurt rushed up to wrap his arms around Blaine's waist. Kurt hugged him tight, caught in a moment of relief and bliss, and Blaine could feel it seeping into his body.  
  
"Then don't say no to me," Blaine whispered. "Don't ever say no."

* * *

  
Blaine walked through the rooms one by one with Kurt, going over plans for renovating the space to suit the kids' particular needs. The first room on the far end of the house, a first master bedroom with its own bathroom, would belong to Dave. The room next to that would be Finn's, and after that Barbra's. The next room would eventually be Elphaba's. Kurt and Dave would rotate keeping her in their rooms for now since she was still so young, and never had a room of her own. Finally, Eva's room next to Kurt's.  
  
"You know," Blaine thought out loud, "I should have Jeff stop by. He has a friend who's an occupational therapist. Maybe he can give us some advice..."  
  
Kurt turned and looked at his boyfriend with a slightly awed expression. Kurt grabbed Blaine's shirt and crashed their lips together. Blaine's eyes went wide for a moment before wrapping his arms protectively around Kurt, holding him close and kissing him back passionately. Kurt bit Blaine's lower lip hard, and Blaine moaned into Kurt's mouth.  
  
"What was that for?" Blaine said when Kurt finally released him. Kurt had a tear in his eye.  
  
"For being so incredible," Kurt said with a laugh. "For being amazing, and thoughtful, and for loving me."  
  
Blaine didn't know what to say. He ducked his head a bit, looking at the floor beneath his feet. He pulled Kurt back down the hall to the last bedroom, which was a second master bedroom with its own bathroom as well. Blaine paused with his hand hovering over the door knob.  
  
"Have you given any thought to what you're going to do with your room?" Blaine asked, leaning against the closed door. Kurt gave him a slightly pointed look and smiled.  
  
"Blaine, you've asked me this about three dozen times," Kurt said. "The answer's not going to change."  
  
"Just, tell me again." Blaine sighed. "Humor me."  
  
"Okay." Kurt rolled his eyes before closing them. "I'm picturing walls painted purple..."  
  
"Purple, huh?" Blaine asked. "Like my favorite velvet pants purple?"  
  
"Close," Kurt said, raising a single lid and fixing an amused gaze on Blaine's face. "But my purple is Dior Vernis in Orchid." Kurt closed his eyes again. "Sheer white curtains on the window that let in the morning sunlight. And carpet in a pale Dior grey..."  
  
"Carpet?" Blaine scrunched his nose. "But you have hardwood floors."  
  
"I know, I know," Kurt said. "But my mom had a pale grey carpet installed in my parent's room when I was little. I've loved it forever."  
  
"And..." Blaine prompted, pulling Kurt out of his daydream.  
  
"And my mom's vanity." Kurt blew out a breath. "God, I wonder how much it would cost to get that here from Ohio."  
  
"We'll look into it," Blaine promised. "Now, I want you to keep that image in your head so when you open your eyes, that's the picture you'll see, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Kurt said, biting his lip and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He heard the door open with a creak. He felt Blaine guide him gently forward, hearing his own heels click on the floor until they suddenly stopped, muffled by...something. Kurt rubbed the ball of his foot along the floor wondering why the change.  
  
 _'Carpet,'_ Kurt thought. _'There's carpet under my feet.'_ Kurt furrowed his brow, but he didn't open his eyes. He took a deep breath. The room he was in smelled like fresh paint and new carpet.  
  
"Blaine?"  
  
"Open your eyes, baby." Kurt could hear Blaine smiling. Kurt waited just a breath longer before he opened his eyes. When he did, he put a steadying hand on Blaine's arm to keep himself grounded, to remind himself he wasn't dreaming.  
  
All around him were purple walls - perfect Dior Orchid walls, just like he had imagined. A breeze blew in through the open windows, sheer white curtains curling out to meet them as the slight wind moved through the room. Beneath his feet, a soft grey carpet stretched from wall to wall. The flagship of this beautiful room was a gigantic bed, exactly the same as Blaine's monstrous bed that Kurt remembered from the first night they spent together, but this version was a beautiful four-poster with a deep wood frame. The mattress was covered in a gorgeous white bed spread with some sort of intricate gold embroidery. Above his head hung a delicate, miniature crystal chandelier.  
  
"Nick picked that out himself," Blaine whispered softly, trying not to break whatever spell Kurt was under.  
  
Kurt stood and stared, vaguely aware that he was being turned in a circle to survey the room until his eyes caught sight of something standing against a far wall.  
  
"Blaine?" Kurt uttered again. Kurt's voice sounded broken, but not in a heartbroken sorrow-filled way.  
  
This break in Kurt's voice was filled with a bittersweet and reverent joy.  
  
"How...how did you get it?"  
  
Kurt walked slowly across the floor, pulled toward the vintage piece of furniture he hadn't seen in years. It looked exactly the way he remembered it - The circular mirror rimmed in gold, the polished white wood, and the stool with the rich velvet cover. He remembered the fabric being a faded red, ripping and fraying at the ends. This new cover was orchid to match the walls.  
  
"I hope you don't mind," Blaine said, noticing as Kurt's eyes lingered on the new fabric. "I didn't have the old cover taken off. It's there underneath. I just had a new one put over it, to match the walls."  
  
"How..." Kurt continued, stuck in a loop, trying to figure it all out. "Blaine, I only agreed to come yesterday."  
  
"Well..." Blaine put comforting hands on Kurt's shoulders. "The second I got off the phone with you, I called Nick, and he helped me put the room together. But the vanity..." Blaine moved his arms around Kurt's waist. "That was a little harder since your dad doesn't quite know who I am..."  
  
Kurt dropped his head, feeling incredibly guilty. It had never dawned on him to tell his dad about Blaine, since so may times Kurt doubted whether or not this beautiful whirlwind romance would actually last.  
  
"I'm sor-"  
  
"Believe it or not..." Blaine interrupted, not allowing Kurt to apologize, "Dave helped me get it."  
  
Kurt turned his head to look at Blaine.  
  
"Dave?"  
  
"Yup." Blaine squeezed Kurt, placing a small kiss to his mouth. "I texted him, and he gave me your dad's phone number. But when I called and your dad had no clue who I was, Dave called for me, and we all arranged for a moving company to overnight it. I tell you, for a moment I was afraid that it wouldn't get here in time. But when it did, Nick came over and put the new cover on it. By the way...you're new bestie nearly pissed himself when he found out you were moving in here."  
  
Kurt chuckled, looking back at the vanity, almost afraid that if he took his eyes off it for a second it would disappear. Suddenly, little things put themselves in place. Kurt did think it was odd that Dave was checking his phone almost every five minutes yesterday while they were out buying the new cars. Dave usually never looked at his phone. Kurt figured he was just receiving messages from people at work about him quitting his job so suddenly, or his friends from the LGBTQ center about the move.  
  
Then, when he had Skyped his dad and Carole to tell them the good news, there was a strange air about them. They were excited, but there was something else. He knew there was something they weren't telling him. He had worried for a moment, thinking that maybe it had to do with his dad's health, and they just weren't telling him. He had sworn to himself that he would press them about it later.  
  
"Blaine...this is incredible. I..." Kurt was at a loss for words. He wasn't truly convinced he wasn't dreaming. How could it all get any better?  
  
Blaine nuzzled into Kurt's neck.  
  
"I just want you to be happy, baby," Blaine said. "I want you to feel at home."  
  
Kurt turned in Blaine's embrace.  
  
"I do," Kurt said. "Whenever you hold me, I feel at home."  
  
Blaine leaned in to Kurt's perfect mouth, ghosting over his lips with his own, feeling Kurt tremble at the slight touch. Blaine pressed his lips against Kurt's lightly, gently. He moved his hands up and down Kurt's back, massaging the muscles with his fingertips, drawing Kurt closer. He heard Kurt breath in, taking Blaine's tongue in deeper into his mouth, letting Blaine have his way for a moment before kissing back.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine didn't want to break their kiss, talking almost into Kurt's waiting mouth. "Let me make love to you?"  
  
It wasn't a question as much as a request. Kurt put his hands into Blaine's hair, preparing to pull him back in as he nodded.  
  
"Yes, Blaine." Kurt kissed Blaine again, just a quick touch of his lips to Blaine's. "Just let me get..."  
  
"Actually..." Blaine moved back a bit so that Kurt could look into Blaine's eyes, "I was thinking that maybe we...you know...wouldn't use them...anymore."  
  
Blaine looked nervous, almost as if asking might turn Kurt off completely.  
  
Kurt looked back into Blaine's gaze, trying to discern his meaning from his eyes.  
  
"Look." Blaine held Kurt's arms and looked down at the carpet beneath his feet. "I trust you. I can only imagine how diligent you must be with regards to your health. And if I remember correctly, you have a signed, legally binding document from me insuring that I'm clean."  
  
Kurt continued to stare at Blaine with wide eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"I only want to be with you, Kurt," Blaine said. "I need to feel you, completely. So, can we? Please?"  
  
Kurt bit his lip, smiling.  
  
"Yes, Blaine." Kurt pulled himself up to Blaine and breathed against his mouth. "Yes."  
  
Blaine undressed Kurt slowly, unwrapping him from his tailored shirt and black jeans like a gift, peeling back layers and revealing smooth, white skin - an unblemished, unmarred landscape for Blaine to bite and kiss and lick. He waited though, wanting to see all of Kurt before he touched him, so he could set him to memory before he settled over him and began to explore.  
  
Blaine carefully removed each piece, setting it aside on the vanity before moving on to the next. Kurt wasn't usually a shy violet, but watching Blaine's eyes take him in, move shamelessly over his body, made Kurt shiver in the most delicious way.  
  
Soon, Kurt was undressed, arms at his sides, half hard, anticipating Blaine's next move. As soon as Blaine kicked off his shoes, Kurt took the initiative, grabbing Blaine by his shirt and pulling him on top of him as they fell on the bed. Kurt moaned at the tantalizing friction between his bare skin and the rough fabric of Blaine's jeans as he rutted against him, covering Blaine's mouth with his, dominating the kiss with his tongue moving against Blaine's mouth.  
  
Blaine moaned into Kurt's mouth as Kurt continually bucked his hips up against him. Having Kurt's naked body in his embrace while he was still fully clothed felt urgent and maybe a little taboo, as if Kurt couldn't wait to have him. Kurt was naked, vulnerable, but still so much in control. He slowly undid the buttons on Blaine's dress shirt, pulling them open one at a time with one hand. His other hand stayed firmly planted on Blaine's ass, a single finger tracing along the seam on Blaine's jeans, igniting him with flares of heat very time Kurt's touch even barely brushed over Blaine's tight hole.  
  
"God, yes, Kurt!" Blaine breathed. "Kurt, undress me, please."  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"I don't know," Kurt said, rutting hard against Blaine's growing cock, "I kind of like this. I could totally cum against you like this, without you even taking off a single article of clothing."  
  
Blaine made a noise low in his throat as he thought of Kurt, his pale skin glowing with sweat, naked and writhing, as Blaine brought him to orgasm, hands on his beautiful skin, holding his hips down and moving against him, Blaine's name spilling unbidden from Kurt's lips. Blaine was finding the need to dominate Kurt cropping up inside of him more and more. Blaine knew Kurt wasn't exactly comfortable being a switch, and given the choice, Blaine would rather be dominated, craved being dominated, craved being owned.  
  
Besides, controlling Kurt...Blaine would have better luck telling the wind to stop blowing.  
  
"Please, Kurt," Blaine whispered soft pleas against his skin. "I want to make love to you. Undress me?"  
  
Kurt grabbed Blaine's shoulders and flipped Blaine smoothly onto his back. Kurt straddled Blaine's waist and the incredible view nearly left Blaine breathless. Kurt's powerful legs held Blaine in place. Blaine could see every inch of Kurt's chest; the defined muscles accentuated by smooth lines as they rose and dipped over his skin. Kurt's overwhelming need for Blaine radiated off of him in waves of heat, his hard cock evidence of his desire. Kurt's whole body was a single coil, tensed, begging for release, waiting to be taken by Blaine.  
  
Kurt pulled Blaine's shirt from his pants, unbuttoning the last few buttons. Blaine sat up a bit, letting Kurt push the fabric over his shoulders and off his arms, flinging the garment carelessly to the floor with a smirk of his pouty lips. Kurt slipped a finger beneath the waistband of Blaine's jeans, toying with the button, feeling the head of Blaine's cock pressing up against his finger. Blaine's eyes rolled back as Kurt teased him, stroking him through the thick fabric, toying over the slit with his fingertip, until Blaine was fumbling with the button of his own jeans, struggling to release his aching cock.  
  
"Okay, okay, sweetheart," Kurt chided playfully. With deft fingers, he pulled open the button and undid the zipper. He pulled Blaine's jeans and underwear down his legs together, kissing down his cock, peppering his thighs, and licking at Blaine's ankles before setting the rest of his clothes at the foot of his bed.  
  
"I can see why you like that so much," Blaine panted with pupils blown wide. "I never thought ankles would be a thing."  
  
"It's definitely something we need to explore later," Kurt agreed, laying over Blaine, stretching out like a cat, and kissing him gently.  
  
"How do you want me?" Kurt asked.  
  
"On your stomach?" Blaine requested, watching with hooded eyes as Kurt crawled off his body, skin brushing sensually as he settled himself down beside Blaine, curling his arms beneath a pillow and hugging it close, smiling when he inhaled a caught a whiff of Blaine's signature scent on the pillowcase. He smiled.  
  
"What is it, gorgeous?" Blaine asked, watching Kurt close his eyes and the smile on his face grow wider.  
  
"Nothing, I just never took you for such a romantic," Kurt breathed.  
  
"Well," Blaine said, climbing over Kurt, trying not to put pressure on his body, "you inspire me."  
  
Blaine reached beneath the other pillow and pulled out a small bottle of lube. Kurt looked back at Blaine with a knowing look.  
  
"Like I said..." Blaine lowered himself and kissed Kurt's shoulder. "You inspire me."  
  
Blaine kissed the back of Kurt's neck, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.  
  
 _'He changed it,'_ Blaine thought. _'It's lavender this time.'_  
  
Blaine nibbled along Kurt's shoulders, delighting as Kurt rolled his arms and squirmed a little beneath the touch of his lips. Blaine traveled with his tongue down the ridge of Kurt's spine, lavishing special attention to the skin covered by Kurt's tattoo, taking in more of the details. Each letter, a different color, textured slightly like it was made of brick, new hues blending where each letter flowed into the other.  
  
No two birds in the flock looked alike. Some flew straight with wings outspread, some pumped their wings in slightly different variations of flight. Some were farther on their journey, but all headed toward the same destiny - up and out and free. Aside from the magnificence that was Kurt himself, this single image was the most beautiful thing Blaine had ever seen. Even the bruises beneath contributed to the beauty of the design. The hurt, the pain, it was all still there, but caged, trapped, a prisoner of Kurt's own undeniable, indefinable courage. The mark of a man destined to rise above, to overcome.  
  
Blaine couldn't imagine Kurt without it there. Kurt might look like porcelain, but he was no fragile piece of glass. Kurt was bravery, power, and strength.  
  
Kurt was becoming Blaine's hero.  
  
Blaine ran his nails down Kurt's sides, feeling his body arch beneath his touch. Blaine reluctantly left the beautiful tattoo to continue the journey to Kurt's incredible ass, nipping along the gentle swell, feeling Kurt tense as Blaine's teeth took teasing bites over his taut flesh.  
  
Blaine ran a tentative tongue down Kurt's crack, feeling Kurt's muscles relax. Kurt moaned, a sound muffled by the pillow beneath his cheek. Blaine felt bold. He massaged Kurt's cheeks firmly with his hands, separating slightly to catch a glimpse of Kurt's entrance.  
  
Blaine was always so turned on by how impeccably clean Kurt kept himself. His skin everywhere was pale and flawless, and every inch of him smelled of vanilla. Blaine licked over Kurt's hole experimentally, enjoying the new, foreign flavor of Kurt's skin in this secret spot. Kurt moaned loudly, a sinful "Yes!" escaping Kurt's lips. Blaine ached to touch Kurt again, hear that beautiful, wanton sound in Kurt's voice.  
  
Blaine licked over it again, adding pressure this time so the tip of his tongue dipped delicately inside. The noise that came from Kurt was one of unbridled lust, and Blaine, enraptured by the sound, grabbed hold of Kurt's skin and lapped at him in earnest. Kurt's body bowed as he arched his back, lifting his chest off the bed. Blaine caught Kurt's hips and held them when Kurt tried to rut against the bed, looking for friction against his body that tingled and sizzled beneath Blaine's tongue. Blaine trapped him their, helpless, hopeless to find relief as he sought Kurt out, falling just short of where Kurt wanted him.  
  
"Oh, Blaine!" he moaned. "Oh, Blaine!"  
  
The noises Kurt made, Blaine had never heard before. He laughed a little when Blaine got close and huffed in frustration when Blaine pulled away. Kurt fisted the blanket in his shaking hands, tossing the pillow to the floor, even trying to grind back against Blaine's face. Eventually Kurt gave up, lying as still as possible beneath the torment of Blaine's persistent tongue as he licked, kissed, and sucked the sensitive skin. Power surged through Blaine as he felt Kurt's muscles quiver, feeling Kurt fight against his own urges, hearing Kurt moan louder, simply repeating a chorus of Blaine's name.  
  
This was as close as Blaine was going to come to breaking Kurt.  
  
"Blaine!" Kurt moaned, raking his nails down the mattress. "Blaine, I'm going to cum!"  
  
Blaine pulled away quickly. That's not what he wanted. Not yet at least. Blaine was going to be damned if he left this room without feeling that beautiful hole clench around his cock, hot and wet and perfect, coaxing him to release inside this gorgeous man.  
  
Blaine pulled himself up Kurt's body, flipping him over roughly, attaching their lips together. Kurt kissed Blaine deep, dirty, overwhelmed as he sucked Blaine's tongue into his mouth, knowing where that tongue had been. Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine's waist, seeking out Blaine's achingly hard cock with his already prepared hole, Blaine had other ideas.  
  
"I want you to ride me, beautiful," Blaine commanded. Blaine wasted no time lying on his back and pulling Kurt on top of him, turning Kurt around so that Blaine could see Kurt's back and that amazing tattoo. He had suddenly become obsessed with it, drawn to it, needing for the moment to know it was still there.  
  
Kurt slid over Blaine's cock swiftly, Blaine barely having a moment to use any lube.  
  
Kurt's body squeezing over his uncovered cock was like sliding into an oven. Blaine, separated from Kurt by that thin layer of latex, never truly appreciated just how hot Kurt's body was, never even dreamed how incredible the squeeze around him would be. Blaine almost couldn't touch Kurt, choosing for a moment to clutch onto the blanket beneath him as he shut his eyes, absorbed the sensation, and prepared to surrender to Kurt's rhythm around him.  
  
"God, I love you," Blaine breathed, as Kurt started slowly and without any warning, bobbing tortuously up and down.  
  
"I love you, too," came Kurt's broken reply.  
  
Blaine's eyes fixed on the image of the birds, flying across Kurt's back, each gyration of his body making the birds appear to soar away. Blaine longed to reach up and try to catch them. Far and free, that was Kurt's dream, wasn't it? Fly away, be a rising star.  
  
Blaine wanted to give that to him.  
  
Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips and stilled him.  
  
"Let me?" Blaine begged, and Kurt nodded, holding himself poised over Blaine's body as Blaine moved up to meet him, long, fluid movements of his body inside Kurt. Kurt wound a hand into his hair, pulling backward until Blaine could see Kurt's forehead, his neck straining against the pull of his own hand in his hair. He reached his other hand down his chest and grabbed his cock, pulling and stroking with the rhythm of Blaine moving up into him.  
  
Blaine watched Kurt roll his head from side to side, breathy moans and gasps punctuating the air as Blaine controlled Kurt's pleasure. Blaine could stop right now if he wanted, impale Kurt against his body and deny him his orgasm, but Blaine wouldn't. He wanted Kurt to feel his love. Wanted Kurt to know how much he could trust Blaine, how much Blaine adored him.  
  
He wanted Kurt to know what forever was going to feel like.  
  
Kurt's whole body shook. His voice, still chanting Blaine's name, failed. Blaine saw Kurt's legs start to slide open as his muscular legs quaked, refusing to hold him still too much longer. Kurt grew tighter and tighter around Blaine's cock. Blaine was finding it harder to move. As his body filled with heat, spiraling down from the feeling of Kurt's smooth skin moving against his cock, Blaine's thrusting became erratic.  
  
Blaine couldn't keep his eyes off Kurt, his strong lithe form moving with Blaine's, his dark hair wound against pale fingers, his eyes shut against the light, abandoning his senses to feel alone.  
  
"I love you, Blaine," Kurt whispered, and Blaine knew Kurt was there, so close to giving in to heat, and relentless and perfect.  
  
Kurt could feel it, too - could feel Blaine's strength start to fail as he try to maintain his pace. Blaine's hips stuttered more than once.  
  
"I love you, Blaine," Kurt gasped against his own need to moan. "I love you driving into me, you're amazingly strong legs...and what you can do with your tongue, Blaine...that was heaven."  
  
"R-really?" Kurt heard Blaine's soft voice.  
  
"Oh, God yes!" Kurt sounded almost exultant. "You can do that to me any time."  
  
Images of Kurt bucking up against his face while his tongue dipped nimbly in and out of Kurt's pink hole did Blaine in and he came, feeling himself rush into Kurt's body, filling him up.  
  
Kurt needed relief, brought to the brink so many times, ridiculously easily by Blaine's talented tongue. Blaine slammed his hips down to the bed, lost in the waves of ecstasy he could feel as he lay beneath Kurt's body. Kurt lifted himself up, impaling himself on Blaine's still hard and pulsing cock three more times before coming, spilling over his own hand, reveling in the sensation of Blaine's cum filling him up, with a prolonged growl between clenched teeth, a sound somewhere between a seductive growl and a sigh of pure satisfaction.  
  
Kurt dropped his hands to rest on Blaine's knees, reticent to get up or even move. Blaine looked at Kurt's strong back bent over his body and smiled, thinking that Kurt was so close. Blaine could wake up and go to sleep to the image of Kurt's naked body whenever he wanted, and the thought filled him with unbridled joy.  
  
"Yuck!" Blaine laughed between pants.  
  
Kurt chuckled.  
  
"Yeah." Kurt sat up and looked around. "We're a bit of a mess."  
  
Blaine lifted Kurt by his hips, carefully dislodging the man from his softening cock, and laying him out on his side with his head on the remaining pillow.  
  
"Hang here for a second," Blaine said, moving swiftly off the bed and heading to the bathroom, returning with a pale blue towel. Blaine diligently cleaned Kurt, gently wiping him down, and then himself, tossing the towel over the side, and covering Kurt with a blanket. Kurt peeked over the edge of the bed at the towel on the floor.  
  
"It's monogrammed," Kurt said with disbelief, eying the 'KH' embroidered in gold letters.  
  
"Yeah..." Blaine blushed. "I got it for my bathroom...um...if you ever stayed over."  
  
Kurt smiled as Blaine slid beneath the blanket behind him. Kurt turned, putting his head on Blaine's chest, ear poised just above Blaine's heart.  
  
Kurt had never really been much of a cuddler. In his limited experience with sex, even with another man he had thought he loved, he would normally bolt out of bed, not at all interested in being wrapped up in someone else's mess. Get up, get out, get on with life.  
  
Being with Blaine was different, and long moments wrapped in his arms was something Kurt enjoyed. Sharing the comfortable silence, touching each other gently, relaxing, enjoying the feeling of each other without needing to perform or be someone else, was like a bandage on his soul. Kurt could feel slightly callused fingertips dance over his skin in random dips and swirls. Then Kurt realized the swirls weren't actually quite so random. They traced the same word over and over...courage. Kurt looked up at Blaine through his messy bangs, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.  
  
"Are you ready to tell me about this?" Blaine asked.  
  
Kurt shifted and put his hands on Blaine's chest, resting his chin on them.  
  
"Say please?" Kurt requested quietly.  
  
Blaine smiled at his lover.  
  
"Please?"  
  
Kurt got thoughtful for a moment, his eyes rolling skyward, his brow furrowing as he considered what to say.  
  
"It's a cover up," Kurt said with a shrug. "Pretty simple."  
  
Blaine scrunched his nose and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head slowly.  
  
"I don't think it's that simple," Blaine said. "What's it covering?"  
  
Kurt frowned, trying to decide what to tell, how much to tell.  
  
"I don't know if I should," Kurt considered. "It's not entirely my story to tell."  
  
Blaine didn't want to press, but he couldn't get the image of those bruises out of his mind. Some of them were deep, and looked like they were probably painful when they were originally delivered.  
  
"Okay," Blaine tread lightly. "Why not just focus on the parts that are yours."  
  
Kurt sighed. He knew Blaine was not about to let this go.  
  
"I told you, I was bullied in high school. Jocks used to shove me around, toss me in dumpsters, knock books out of my hands...pretty normal stuff..."  
  
Blaine's eyes darkened dangerously. Kurt swallowed. He really didn't want to do this.  
  
"There was one jock in particular...football player..."  
  
Blaine noticed how Kurt's voice shook. He imagined it must have been a horrible memory to carry for so long.  
  
"...he had me scared to death. Every day he pushed me into lockers, punched me, knocked me to the floor."  
  
Kurt could feel Blaine's hands still. He barely breathed, waiting for Kurt to continue. He hoped he could end the story there, but Blaine knew there was more.  
  
"Anyway, one day I confronted him...cornered him in the locker room..."  
  
"And," Blaine growled out between clenched teeth.  
  
Kurt looked away. He couldn't bear to look at the helpless emotion of anger on Blaine's face.  
  
"He grabbed me...pushed me up against a locker and kissed me."  
  
Kurt could feel Blaine's hands ball into fists against his back.  
  
"What happened after that?" Blaine's voice calm, chilling.  
  
"I got away, but he told me if I told anyone, he would kill me."  
  
Kurt held his breath, waiting for the next inevitable question.  
  
"Whatever happened to him?"  
  
Kurt looked up at Blaine, his eyes wide and pleading.  
  
"Blaine, I need you to make me a promise."  
  
' _A promise to what?'_ Blaine thought. _'A promise to protect you forever from the homophobic assholes of the world? Done.'_  
  
"What, love?" Blaine's eyes were cold, hard.  
  
"Just...don't overreact, okay. Don't...get upset and go off the deep end."  
  
Blaine was confused. Kurt thought Blaine would be mad at him?  
  
"Of course, not, love." Blaine's eyes softened. He kissed Kurt lightly on the forehead.  
  
"Yeah," Kurt said. "Hold that thought."  
  
Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes.  
  
"He transferred schools. Kids at our school played a horrible prank, and he couldn't handle it. He wasn't out, and he was afraid..."  
  
Blaine looked into Kurt's wide, blue eyes. Blaine knew there was something he was trying to make Blaine understand without having to put it into words.  
  
Blaine got it. It hit him like a wall, shoving him back ten feet, building a divide between them.  
  
 _"I...failed Kurt a lot... Please...don't do the same."_  
  
"No, Kurt!" Blaine sat straight up. He needed to get up. He needed to get out.  
  
Blaine felt betrayed. He didn't know how or why, but he did. He liked Dave. How could he do this?  
  
Kurt held Blaine close, settling him back down on the bed.  
  
Blaine had tears in his eyes.  
  
"Ho-how can you live with him?" Blaine asked in horror. "After he did this to you?" Blaine's hands came to rest on Kurt's back, covering the tattoo protectively.  
  
"Because, Blaine, all of that was a long time ago..."  
  
Blaine was shaking his head against the pillow, trying to understand.  
  
"So, wait...he tortures you because he has a crush on you, and then he just wins, and he gets to be with you?"  
  
Kurt tried to catch Blaine's gaze, bring him back to the present. Kurt knew that in his mind a teenaged Blaine was barreling down the hallway of McKinley High toward Dave, set to kill.  
  
"He's not with me..."  
  
"You sleep in the same bed, Kurt!"  
  
Kurt looked hurt.  
  
"But, it's not like that," Kurt said quietly. "It was never like that. And...we won't be anymore?"  
  
It was a question. Kurt was afraid Blaine might rescind his offer and kick Dave out. They might not be a couple, but Kurt couldn't stay in L. A. without Dave.  
  
Blaine sighed, relaxing into the bed.  
  
"Kurt, of course you're not. And...I like Dave. I do. The man he is now...I have great respect for him. I promise..."  
  
Kurt smiled, holding Blaine tightly.  
  
"I just wish he had gotten his...that's all."  
  
"Blaine," Kurt started softly, "I can't tell you his story. But believe me when I tell you...he's suffered, too." Kurt sighed, and looked down at his fingers, "He's suffered enough."  
  
Blaine sighed and looked from side to side, as if searching out some sort of guidance. He rubbed his fingers lightly down Kurt's back, smiling slightly when Kurt squirmed.  
  
"And the tattoo?" Blaine prompted, trying to make his voice sound light.  
  
"Some of the bruises were deep, from corners of metal lockers, and...other things. A lot of them faded, but quite a few never went away. They go straight to the muscle. "  
  
"So, he got you the tattoo to cover the bruises?" Blaine's voice was thick.  
  
"Just after we started living together, we were all still trying to get used to six of us in the small space. None of the doors had locks, and it was a bit of an adjustment remembering to knock all of the time. He walked in on me while I was getting dressed. I wasn't wearing a shirt, and he caught sight of my back...all the bruises. I know he assumed they had healed. I never told him any different."  
  
"What did he do?" Blaine continued to rub Kurt's back, tracing over the letters that seemed to mean so much more now.  
  
"He cried," Kurt said. Blaine put a comforting hand on Kurt's head, running his fingers through Kurt's soft hair. "He pretty much fell completely apart. It took a while to get him to stop, and after he did, he didn't talk to me, or anyone really. Then after a few days, we talked and talked. He wanted to know what he could do to make it all better...well, not ALL better, but better. And we decided on this..." Kurt motioned over his shoulder with his chin, indicating the tattoo. "It was his way of mending fences. It's very important to me."  
  
"Where did you come up with this design? I mean, I'm not sure this is the kind of thing you would just pick off the wall at your local tattoo parlor."  
  
"When I first got to New York, I was so out of my element, and lost. I was walking to school one day and came across a mural painted in bright colors on the side of a building..."  
  
Kurt got out of bed and walked over to the vanity to get his pants, Blaine's eyes following his shape as he moved. He pulled his phone out of the pocket, and touched the screen, scrolling through the pictures until he found one, and handed it to Blaine. He crawled back under the covers as Blaine studied the image. It was the side on an old building, brick wall taking up the entire screen and the word "courage" carefully painted in multiple bright colors. Blaine looked at the screen carefully, noticing the colors of the letters, the original font, and then he motioned for Kurt to turn around. Kurt turned away from Blaine so Blaine could compare the photo to his back. Blaine reached out and touched the word again reverently, tracing over the letters with his fingers, watching Kurt shiver.  
  
"And the blackbirds?"  
  
"From a near and dear Beatles song," Kurt said. Blaine looked at the birds, rising up from the letters and flying, free and careless.  
  
"That's it," Kurt said, and Blaine only then realized he had been humming the tune. Kurt turned back around to snuggle into Blaine's side.  
  
Blaine sighed and handed Kurt back his phone. Blaine felt heavy, weighted down. He didn't want to be angry at Dave. He didn't want to feel sorry for Kurt.  
  
"Thank you for telling me," was all he could think of to say.  
  
Kurt's mouth quirked into a mischievous grin, one Blaine knew and loved very well. It usually accompanied things like outdoor blowjobs or incredible spankings. Blaine raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Let's head to your house," Kurt said, tracing a delicate finger over Blaine's chest, circling each nipple, listening to Blaine suck in a breath. "I'll make you dinner...and then we can have some _real_ fun."  
  



	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn my readers that the scene with the boys in the game room gets a little intense. Please remember that Kurt and Blaine are in a loving and consensual relationship, and I would like to think that comes across in this chapter overall. That said, warnings for bondage, rutting, D/S situations, spanking, oral sex, and slut shaming.

Blaine approved greatly of Kurt's new car. Long gone was the squealing Suzuki Esteem, replaced by a bright and shiny Honda Odyssey. Blaine walked around it, taking it in at every angle. His only objection was that it was an earlier model.  
  
"So you don't like my car," Kurt said, leaning against the car where is was park beside Blaine's car in the driveway of Blaine's house.  
  
"I didn't say that," Blaine said. "Far from it. I just want to know why you didn't go for a brand new one."  
  
"Because," Kurt smirked, grabbing his overnight bag from the trunk, "I don't need new. This one was a better deal."  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes, but he loved Kurt, loved everything about him, and that included his sometimes unnecessary practicality.  
  


* * *

  
Kurt frowned as he rummaged through Blaine's kitchen.  
  
"I know you're a swinging bachelor and all," Kurt said, studying the mostly empty refrigerator, "but how do you exist on a jar of salad olives, an expired box of Fruit Loops, and an opened draft beer?"  
  
"Uh..." Blaine rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I don't cook all that often."  
  
Kurt tsked at Blaine, slowly wagging a long, thin finger beneath his nose.  
  
"Come on, princess." Kurt grabbed the waist band of Blaine's jeans, pulling him along. "We're going to go shopping."  
  


* * *

  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes when Blaine pulled up to the store, opting for a small, overpriced, specialty food store over a big-name supermarket.  
  
"Geez." Kurt grabbed a hand basket and took a quick look around at the other customers, all in named brand clothing and shoes. He was sure he saw another television actor picking through the organic produce. "I feel under dressed."  
  
"It's not that bad." Blaine put a hand to the small of Kurt's back, and Kurt melted just a bit at the gesture.  
  
"No, of course not," Kurt teased. "But if we run into George Clooney, I don't know who you are."  
  
Blaine pinched Kurt, who giggled, leading Blaine down the first aisle.  
  
After he picked up his third box of pasta and rolled his eyes at the price, Blaine took the basket from Kurt's arm.  
  
"Just point," Blaine said. "You're cooking, I'll buy."  
  
"Haven't you ever heard of coupons?" Kurt groaned. "Price comparison? Discounts? I mean, how do you have so much money if you shop at places like this?"  
  
"Well..." Blaine turned to face his boyfriend. "You're just going to have to teach me then." Blaine leaned into Kurt's ear, nibbling on his earlobe. "Long, hard lessons."  
  
Kurt giggled as Blaine licked his neck lightly - nibbling and kissing and _click_.  
  
 _Click?_  
  
Kurt snapped his head up to see a woman in a Ralph Lauren tennis dress walking away quickly, texting frantically.  
  
"Did you hear that?" Kurt asked, nudging Blaine who continued to suck on Kurt's neck.  
  
"What?" Blaine mumbled against Kurt's skin.  
  
"I...I think someone just took a picture of us!"  
  
Blaine looked up, his eyes smiling.  
  
"Could be," Blaine said. "We are pretty hot together."  
  
Kurt went cold. He tried to push away from Blaine, who wrapped his free arm around Kurt's waist and held him tighter.  
  
"B-but...Blaine! What if the studio finds out? What about..."  
  
Blaine raised his head from Kurt's neck and locked onto his lips, moving slowly against his mouth until Kurt's tense muscles relaxed, warm and pliant against Blaine's body.  
  
"Brad and the studio have no leverage over you here," Blaine whispered against Kurt's mouth. "You have a nice house, and a good job. What can they do to you...to us? They can't touch us, baby. They can't touch what we have."  
  
Kurt wanted to be like Blaine. He wanted to believe that nothing could hurt them - not Brad, or the studio, or Mia, or Sebastian. As Blaine lowered his mouth to capture Kurt's lips again, Kurt tried to think of some consequence, some reason to stop, but nothing came to mind. Blaine was right. For now, Brad couldn't touch them.  
  
Kurt just hoped that it would last.  
  


* * *

  
  
Kurt bit his tongue near to bleeding as Blaine paid over $100 in groceries that Kurt knew he could have gotten for half at his local supermarket. Kurt didn't want to be petty, so he distracted himself by browsing through the gossip magazines at the check out display. His eye caught the cover of US magazine. In an inset box was a photo of Blaine and Mia with the caption "America's Cutest Couple".  
  
Blaine saw the look on Kurt's face and followed his gaze. Blaine eyed the photo on the cover and frowned. He grabbed up the magazine.  
  
"I really wish they'd stop publishing those pictures." Blaine thumbed through the issue. "I mean, isn't there any other news to report on? Did we feed all the hungry and stop all the wars?"  
  
Kurt smirked.  
  
"Sweetheart, it's _US_ magazine." Kurt laughed. "Not _Time_. Your life is how they make money. I figured you'd be used to it."  
  
 "I am, baby." Blaine kissed Kurt on the cheek. "I just don't want you to get upset."  
  
The lady behind them in line looked at Blaine, and then at the magazine cover, then back at Blaine.  
  
"Oh my God!" she screeched in a barely restrained whisper, grabbing the arm of the woman beside her. "That's Blaine Anderson!"  
  
The other woman looked up, noticing how Kurt and Blaine stood in close proximity, Kurt's arm resting on Blaine's, as they huddled around the magazine.  
  
"Uh, where's Mia?" the woman remarked sarcastically. "You know, you're girlfriend?"  
  
The first lady shushed her, horrified and blushing.  
  
Blaine turned slowly to the women in line, a devious smirk on his face.  
  
"Actually," Blaine said, feeling an overwhelming sense of confidence with Kurt by his side. "Mia is a harpy bitch, and we were never really dating."  
  
Kurt watched as the women's mouths dropped, gaping, along with other patrons in line, as Blaine made his revelation. Blaine took Kurt's arm gently, urging him forward. "This is my boyfriend," Blaine introduced. "Kurt Hummel, up and coming fashion designer. You're going to be hearing a lot about him in the near future."  
  
Blaine turned to Kurt who stood stock still, slightly paler and with an unreadable expression on his beautiful face.  
  
The checkout line was dead quiet. Blaine nodded once, taking Kurt's arm and their shopping bag, and walked from the store.

 

  
Kurt was still quiet when Blaine opened the car door for him and Kurt sat inside. As they began to drive from the parking lot, Kurt finally spoke.  
  
"I...I..." Kurt stammered a little before finding the words he was looking for. "I'm not sure if I should be pissed off or incredibly turned on.  
  
"Can we go with incredibly turned on?" Blaine said, turning down the next street and chancing a side glance to Kurt. "I think that outcome will turn out a lot better."  
  
Kurt didn't answer. A moment later, Blaine heard the zipper of his jeans being undone, and felt a warm, wet mouth surround his cock.  
  
"Nngh," Blaine moaned, fighting to keep his eyes open as Kurt sucked with vigor. "Turned on it is."  
  


* * *

  
Kurt tried his best not to burn the dinner he was making while Blaine groped him in the kitchen. Kurt barely managed to get the brioche and the quails in the oven before Blaine latched onto Kurt's neck and unceremoniously shoved his hand down the front of Kurt's jeans. In the end, Kurt had to turn the oven off and abandon his reduction to cool and coagulate as Blaine lifted him onto the table, stripped him of his jeans, and returned the favor for the glorious blowjob Kurt had given him in the car.  
  
  
"Kurt," Blaine moaned, "This is amazing!"  
  
Kurt smiled as he watched Blaine devour the quail.  
  
"Thank you." Kurt took a sip of his wine, then thoughtfully constructed a bite of his own meal on the tines of his fork. "But, you know, it's a lot better when it's hot and the sauce isn't lumpy."  
  
"Ack!" Blaine waved Kurt's comment away with his fork. "Small price, I'd say, for your orgasm." Blaine winked. "Besides, you weren't making an appetizer. I had to improvise."  
  
Kurt scoffed, Blaine laughed.  
  
Kurt served Blaine dessert. With a slow kiss to savor the taste of white wine on Blaine's lips, he excused himself. Blaine tucked into his pastry, his mind whirling as to what Kurt might be doing.  
  
When Kurt didn't return, Blaine went looking for him. He heard Kurt's voice coming from the patio.  
  
"If you can handle them for one more day, I would like to stay up here tomorrow and get the rooms set up...I know, but I rather get new beds...because the beds came with the house and I'm not taking any thing from our old poisoned, disgusting house and bringing it to the beautiful new house...yes, it is beautiful..."  
  
Beautiful was just what Blaine thought as he rounded the corner and saw Kurt, standing on the patio, talking on the phone to Dave. He was wearing a pair of black boy-cut panties that hugged the taut curves of his ass and rode up a bit to show a peek of the pale globes underneath...and nothing else.  
  
Kurt listened a moment more, running a hand over his own chest, traveling down over the thigh of one leg, and then back up. Blaine watched his fingertips, licking his lips absently as those fingers continued their journey over the waistband of Kurt's panties and around his hip, along the underside of his ass.  
  
"No, no that's fine. Tell them it's okay...no, that sounds like an excellent idea...sure, I'll ask...I'll see you all then...kiss the kids for me...love you all, too. Bye."  
  
Kurt hung up the phone and smiled up to the dark sky, laughing a bit before shaking his head and turning toward the patio door. His smile widened when he saw Blaine staring at him, mouth open, eyes wandering over his pale form, glowing in the light of the waxing moon.  
  
Blaine swallowed. He was looking forward to getting punished if that's all Kurt was going to be wearing.  
  
"Th-that's a little unusual for a dom to wear, isn't it?" Blaine asked, though in truth, Blaine wouldn't actually know for sure. From the front Blaine could see a small silver circle embroidered in the panties above Kurt's right hip.  
  
"That's because a dom usually wouldn't dress like this," Kurt said, sliding up to Blaine and fitting himself in his arms. "But a sub would."  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt, his eyebrows raised as Kurt fiddled with the buttons of Blaine's shirt. Blaine had a goofy, kid in a candy store sort of look on his face.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine ran his fingertips gently up Kurt's arms, watching with delight as Kurt squirmed against him, forming his body perfectly against his. Blaine could feel the warmth of Kurt's uncovered skin seep into him. "Are you sure about this?"  
  
"That night in the dance room..." Kurt snaked his hands up Blaine's back, dancing his fingers through his hair, "I saw a fire in you. Something a little wild and gorgeous, and untapped. I just want to see what you could do with that."  
  
"So..." Blaine's voice shook slightly, "you want me to..."  
  
"Dominate me," Kurt said decidedly. It sounded like a command. Blaine chuckled at the irony.  
  
Blaine looked back down over Kurt's body. He couldn't stop touching the flawless skin, feeling the muscles underneath, the flat plane of Kurt's toned stomach.  
  
"Wh-what would I wear?" Blaine stuttered, realizing  the question sounded kind of lame. Kurt smiled and took Blaine's hand, leading him to the bedroom.  
  
Kurt's gear bag lay open on Blaine's bed. Kurt reached inside and pulled out a folded pair of black pants and what looked like a silver chain.  
  
"The guy who ditched me at that party left his gear bag with me. He never even tried anything on." Kurt unfolded the pants and confirmed Blaine's suspicions. They were leather. Kurt handed them over to Blaine with a smirk. While Blaine looked them over, eying the tag to make sure the size was something close to what he wore, Kurt began stripping off Blaine's clothes. Blaine started putting on the pants, but Kurt took his hand, tsking him again.  
  
"You're not getting leather pants on over your boxer briefs, sweetheart." Kurt stood close to Blaine, shifting his underwear over his half hard cock, down his muscular legs, and then over his feet, tossing them to the side. Blaine slid the pants on while Kurt watched.  
  
The thick material, lined in some sort of silky fabric, was cool, but not forgiving. It clung to every curve, exposed every flaw. Blaine fastened and zipped the pants closed, holding his hands up for Kurt's approval. Kurt walked around Blaine's body, running a hand around his hips, sliding over his ass, stopping for a moment to palm over his cock.  
  
"Nice." Kurt stood in front of Blaine and grabbing his ass in his hands. "I definitely approve, now..."  
  
Kurt picked up the chain and started fastening it in a crisscross pattern across Blaine's chest. It had a leather ring in the center that went over his sternum, with the chains springing out from the rim. Kurt adjusted it in the back, fixing the ends so they didn't sag.  
  
"There we go." Kurt patted Blaine gently on the chest, "Dominator Blaine, large and in charge."  
  
Blaine laughed, looking himself over in the mirror.  
  
"Wow." Blaine couldn't get his eyes off his own reflection. "I've never worn anything like this." Blaine turned in a slow circle. "I look so...different."  
  
"Yes, you do." Kurt put his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "But you still look a lot the same."  
  
Blaine peeked over his shoulders at his boyfriend.  
  
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Well..." Kurt came around in front of Blaine, running a hand over his exposed skin, "you're strong, gorgeous, muscular, sexy...but you're those things all the time."  
  
Blaine blushed. He ducked his head and his eye caught the silver circle on Kurt's panties again. He scrunched his nose as he looked at it.  
  
"What's with the circle?" Blaine asked. Kurt looked down, as if acknowledging that it was actually there.  
  
"Well," Kurt began, tracing around the raised circle with his finger, "it's the symbol of a taken sub. If we were at a club, and you decided to put me on display, it means no one else can dominate me...but you."  
  
Blaine traced over the circle with his finger, chasing Kurt's finger and then taking his hand.  
  
"Mind if I move this party somewhere else?" Blaine nibbled on Kurt's lip, tugging gently before biting a little harder, letting it sting.  
  
"Ooo," Kurt moaned, as his lip tingled. "You're in charge."  
  
Blaine looked over at Kurt's gear bag, and quickly grabbed a nylon rope and a scarf before pulling Kurt down the hall to the game room.

* * *

  
  
Being a dominator and looking the part were two different things. As Blaine led Kurt through the house, he realized he had no idea what he was going to do when he got to the game room. He wondered if Kurt had any official training, or did he work mainly on instinct. Blaine couldn't imagine that Kurt could deal with everyone in exactly the same way. Some people would require a different technique.  
  
Besides, their relationship was different. They were in love.  
  
They got to the game room and the first thing Blaine noticed was the lights. They were all on and it was incredibly bright. He turned the dimmer switch so that the atmosphere of the room became a little more intimate.  
  
Blaine turned to look at Kurt, bright blue eyes shimmering at him in the dim light, and felt a thrill ripple over his skin.  
  
Blaine chuckled nervously.  
  
"Where should I start?" Blaine asked, realizing he was looking to his dom for help.  
  
"Just try to imagine how you might want me." Kurt lowered his eyes to the floor.  
  
Blaine looked over Kurt, eyes downcast, still, compliant, waiting for an order from Blaine.  
  
"O-on your knees?" Blaine stammered a bit.  
  
"You don't ask, Blaine." Kurt's voice was even. "Tell me what you want me to do."  
  
Blaine searched inside himself for some sort of secret power, trying to feel his inner dominator. He wasn't having any luck finding it, especially in the face of Kurt the sub. It seemed somewhat unnatural. Blaine couldn't imagine Kurt bending to anybody's will. But Kurt was doing this for him. Kurt believed in him. He would at least give it a try.  
  
"On your knees, Kurt." Blaine's voice was stern, demanding, but without the teasing flair that Kurt's dominatrix had.  
  
When Blaine watched Kurt fall to his knees, Blaine's palms began to sweat.  
  
Kurt looked so hot on his knees, but something about it wasn't right.  
  
"You need to find a name for me, sir," Kurt offered in the same compliant tone.  
  
That part was easy.  
  
"Alright, baby."  
  
Again, Blaine was stuck.  
  
Kurt sat high on his knees, unmoving.  
  
"I belong to you, sir," Kurt said softly. "What would you like to do with me?"  
  
"I would like to touch you." Blaine's voice was soft, reverent.  
  
"So, put me in a position, and touch me. You don't have to ask."  
  
Blaine approached Kurt, noticing that not a muscle of him flinched, not a bit of him tried to move away.  
  
 _Silence. Discipline. Obedience._  
  
Blaine put a hand between Kurt's shoulder blades and pushed him forward until his forehead reached his knees. Kurt didn't shift his body to accommodate the stretch of his spine, nor did he complain.  
  
 _Silence. Discipline. Obedience._  
  
Blaine knelt beside him. He ran the back of his hand along Kurt's spine. No delicious tremble. No shiver. He slid his palm over Kurt's rear, pressing in gently over Kurt's entrance, circling in a way that usually made Kurt moan.  
  
Kurt was quiet.  
  
Blaine slipped his fingers further to caress Kurt's balls, fondling them through the silky fabric. He expected Kurt to buck, and sigh with pleasure.  
  
 _Silence. Discipline. Obedience._  
  
Kurt was being a perfect sub - giving his body and letting Blaine take what he wanted for his own pleasure.  
  
Blaine didn't like it. Blaine wanted a reaction to his touches. He wanted Kurt's moans and his trembling. He wanted to make Kurt quiver.  
  
Blaine didn't like seeing Kurt in submission.  
  
Strangely enough, a part of Blaine was jealous. Blaine wanted to be where Kurt was now. Fondled, caressed, restrained. He wanted to fight and fight until he broke. He wanted to hear the sound of pride in Kurt's voice when he praised him; the teasing promise of punishment when Blaine failed.  
  
He didn't want to break Kurt.  
  
He wanted to be broken.  
  
Blaine remembered their time together at the competition, in the dance room. The scratches down Blaine's chest, him taking Kurt to the floor, pounding into him, spanking him.  
  
Maybe Blaine didn't have to completely dominate Kurt. Maybe he could find something in between.  
  
"I can't do this, Kurt," Blaine said quietly.  
  
Kurt looked up at Blaine and furrowed his brow.  
  
"Did I do something wrong?" Kurt asked with a blank expression.  
  
"No." Blaine smiled. "It's me. I...I need to be where you are."  
  
Blaine put firm hands on Kurt's shoulders and pushed him back till he was kneeling up again. Kurt kept his eyes low, looking at his hands resting on his knees.  
  
"Kurt, you shouldn't be controlled." Blaine put a finger under Kurt's chin and raised his face to look at him. "You should never lower your eyes for anyone."  
  
Blaine lowered his eyes to his knees, sinking low, bowing his head to the floor...taking Kurt's place as sub.  
  
Kurt's heart fluttered in his chest. He was so touched by Blaine's display. He had never had a sub who was so devoted. Kurt put a hand into Blaine's hair, gently patting his curls.  
  
"What would you like to do, sweetheart?"  
  
Blaine stayed still, quiet, and Kurt smiled.  
  
"You may respond, my love."  
  
Blaine shivered as he let the new nickname wash through him.  
  
"I liked what we did in the dance room," Blaine said. "When I took control and you told me how to please you."  
  
Kurt regarded Blaine for a moment. Kurt eyed the room - the billiards table, the discarded rope and scarf. He got an idea. He tugged on Blaine's arm, prompting him to stand.  
  
"Stand up, my love," Kurt said. "We're going to play a little game."  
  
Blaine stood and faced his dom. Kurt slid up to Blaine, wrapping his arm around Blaine's shoulders, running his fingers through his hair.  
  
"When we were in the bedroom, and I was dressing you, I was trying to seduce you, Blaine."  
  
Blaine raised an eyebrow. Kurt...stating the obvious...sexy, but Blaine didn't quite understand why.  
  
"But, I was already your sub then, Blaine, and subs are not allowed to try and initiate sex."  
  
Blaine still looked confused. Kurt leaned into to Blaine's ear, blowing a cool breath over Blaine's skin.  
  
"You're going to have to punish me, Blaine."  
  
Blaine's eyes went wide, and his heart raced. Kurt picked up the scarf and the rope and handed them to Blaine. Blaine took them, looking over them.  
  
"What am I going to do?" he asked.  
  
"You're going to stretch me," Kurt responded, holding up his wrists for Blaine. "You're going to tie my wrists together, and pull me over the billiards table so I don't move."  
  
Blaine almost moaned, trying hard to keep his composure in the face of a bound and stretched Kurt lying almost naked over his billiards table. Blaine quickly wrapped Kurt's wrists with the scarf, and then wrapped the nylon cord over it, tying it over a few times before making a knot.  
  
Blaine led Kurt over to the table, watching as Kurt bit his lip. Blaine put a hand between Kurt's shoulder blades and slowly bent him over the edge. The boy cut panties pulled up a bit at the hips, exposing the globes of Kurt's ass.  
  
"Arms out straight, gorgeous," Blaine commanded softly, and Kurt complied, stretching his arms out ahead of him over the felt. Blaine pulled the rope to the leg of the table at the opposite end, and secured it, pulling Kurt forward until he was balancing on the balls of his feet.  
  
Blaine looked at his beautiful boyfriend, his fiery black swan, tied willingly to the table, stretched out over it, his pale skin and mostly naked body on display. Blaine sighed, feeling his cock twitch in the tight leather pants. Blaine lay his body over Kurt's bent one, pressing his hard length against Kurt's covered crack and reaching over Kurt to tug at the rope, making sure it was secure.  
  
"God, you look beautiful like this," Blaine whispered hotly in Kurt's ear.  
  
Blaine stood, running his hands over Kurt's back and down to his ass, settling his palm over the taut, perfectly round flesh.  
  
"Do you want to spank me, sweetheart?" Kurt asked, his voice smooth and silky, pure unadulterated sex. Kurt shook his hips slowly, taunting Blaine. Kurt couldn't see Blaine, but he could picture the look on Blaine's face - the slow flush in his tan cheeks, the way he chewed on his lip, his cock straining in his pants.  
  
"God, yes," Blaine said, caressing the soft flesh.  
  
"Tell me what you're going to do to me, sweetheart."  
  
"I'm going to spank you, baby," Blaine said, caught in the trance of Kurt's voice, leading him through. Kurt shivered at the sound of Blaine's commanding words.  
  
"Tell me what I did, sweetheart," Kurt whispered, tense as he pulled on the rope binding his hands.  
  
"I'm going to spank you for wearing those insanely small panties," Blaine breathed. "For trying to seduce me."  
  
"How many swats is that worth, sweetheart?" Kurt squirmed against the wood edge of the table subconsciously, trying to find friction against the smooth surface.  
  
"Ten," Blaine said, still massaging Kurt's ass.  
  
"Twenty," Kurt corrected. Blaine squeezed Kurt's ass roughly with his fingers.  
  
"My God, Kurt! Twenty?"  
  
"Mmhmm," Kurt almost purred, shivering and grinding against the table a little in anticipation.  
  
"Tell me to count it out for you..." Kurt tried not to writhe, turned on by the sound of his own desperate voice. "Tell me you want me to thank you...tell me what you want me to call you..."  
  
Blaine steeled himself, trying to find his voice.  
  
"I'm going to spank you, baby. Twenty swats for trying to seduce me. You're going to count it out for me...." Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips by his black panties and pulled Kurt against him. "You're going to thank me for each one...and you're going to call me... _Mr. Anderson_."  
  
Kurt stilled against Blaine, concentrating on the feeling of Blaine sliding his cock along his crack.  
  
"Are you ready?" Blaine's voice was soft, teasing, thick with seduction. With his cheek pressed against the green felt, Kurt smiled.  
  
Kurt stayed quiet.  
  
"You may respond."  
  
Blaine continued to rut slowly up and down over Kurt's hole.  
  
"Yes, _Mr. Anderson_."  
  
Blaine growled. Kurt was better at this than Blaine. He was going to make Blaine cum using only his voice.  
  
Blaine rutted a few more times, rubbing Kurt's ass with his rough hands. He brought his hand back and swiftly swatted Kurt on the backside. Kurt shifted forward slightly.  
  
"One...thank you, Mr. Anderson."  
  
Kurt sounded unaffected. Blaine spanked him harder.  
  
"Two...thank you, Mr. Anderson."  
  
Blaine switched sides and spanked harder. This time, Kurt made a small gasping noise.  
  
"Nngh...three...thank you, Mr. Anderson." Every time Kurt called Blaine 'Mr. Anderson', it went straight to his cock.  
  
"You like that, don't you, you little slut," Blaine said, pulling Kurt close to him. "I can feel you quivering against me. I know you want me, don't you? You may respond."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Anderson!" Kurt moaned, pressing his ass back against Blaine's erection. "Yes, I want you, Mr. Anderson!"  
  
Blaine grabbed Kurt's hips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh.  
  
"Hold still, little slut, or I won't let you cum."  
  
Blaine felt it - that tingle that spread over his skin when he spanked Kurt for the first time, when he pounded into Kurt's hole, staring at their reflection in the mirror.  
  
Blaine spanked Kurt harder.  
  
"Oof! Four...thank you, Mr. Anderson...."  
  
With every spank, Kurt's voice became higher, a little more broken. Blaine wondered if Kurt would actually last to twenty.  
  
 _Smack_.  
  
"Hmpf! Five! Thank you, Mr. Anderson."  
  
 _Smack_.  
  
"Aaah! Six! Thank you, Mr. Anderson."  
  
Blaine's hand began to shake with each smack to Kurt's ass. Blaine noticed Kurt tug on his binds, wringing his wrists and flexing his fingers.  
  
Blaine reached around to palm Kurt's hard cock through the fabric of his panties, feeling in his hand how heavy, how achingly hard it was.  
  
"So, that turns you on, does it?" Blaine slowly moved over Kurt's hole. "Being tied down and spanked? You may respond."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Anderson!" Kurt cried.  
  
"Say it, slut!" Blaine said, undoing his leather pants and pulling them down his legs slowly. "Tell me that being tied down and spanked turns you on. You may respond."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Anderson!" Kurt could hear Blaine undo the zipper of his pants, and could only imagine him sliding the leather off his legs. "I like being tied down and spanked, Mr. Anderson!"  
  
Blaine grabbed Kurt's panties by the hips and yanked them down roughly, leaving tracks from his nails in its wake.  
  
"Only by me, right?" Blaine growled. "You only like being tied down and spanked by me, right?"  
  
Kurt felt Blaine's bare cock against his entrance. He squirmed against the table, trying to line Blaine up against his hole, begging silently for his boyfriend to take him.  
  
"Only you," Kurt moaned. "Only you."  
  
Blaine's hands stilled, his rutting ceased. He bent over Kurt's back to whisper into Kurt's skin.  
  
"I didn't give you permission to speak."  
  
Listening to Blaine's cool, calm whisper sent a chill up Kurt's spine. He smiled. He was goading Blaine, seeing what he'd do.  
  
Kurt heard Blaine behind him, spitting into his hands, lubing himself up. He felt the head of Blaine's cock breaching his entranced, and he relaxed to allow him access.  
  
"Oh God, baby!" Blaine's moan was long and loud as he moved slowly into his boyfriend. "Do you feel that? Do you feel me stretching you?"  
  
Kurt stayed silent, legs trembling against the strain of balancing on the balls of his feet while Blaine slowly entered him from behind.  
  
"You like that, don't you? Feeling my big, hard cock stretching your tight hole?"  
  
Blaine gripped Kurt's hips, taking a few experimentally shallow thrusts, sliding half way and then stopping. Kurt had a feeling he knew what was coming next, and in a masochistic way, he looked forward to it.  
  
He felt Blaine tighten his grip, his fingers shaking .  
  
"I want to hear you scream for me, baby," Blaine said, his voice gravelly and dark.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Anderson," Kurt choked.  
  
Blaine pushed in hard, sinking himself deep into Kurt, holding Kurt's hips against him, keeping him immobile.  
  
Kurt did scream. He screamed against the sting and the burn. He screamed against the power and the strength of his boyfriend commanding his body. For too long Kurt had been in charge, in control, made all the decisions, did all the work. He needed this. Needed to feel like someone wanted him, and not only what he could do for them.  
  
Tears filled his eyes as the pain subsided, but all he wanted to do was laugh.  
  
He could feel Blaine, moving inside him, filling him up, pounding inside him. All thoughts of rules and restrictions and counting went out the window.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Anderson! Harder, Mr. Anderson! Fuck me, Mr. Anderson!"  
  
Blaine was lost to it; lost to the sound of Kurt's voice. Blaine spanked Kurt hard with trembling hands, feeling Kurt's beautiful tight heat around him, watching Kurt pull on the rope, desperate to touch and take and claim his sub again. Kurt was a wild creature, tied up, restrained, and Blaine was having his way with him.  
  
Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine, knocking Blaine forward a bit so that his chest pressed into Kurt's back. Blaine's whole world tilted, the squeeze around his cock increased. It hit him unexpectedly.  
  
"Oh, God, Kurt," Blaine whimpered. "God, I'm cumming."  
  
Kurt felt a little cheated. All that fantastic release, and Kurt didn't get to finish with Blaine. Before Kurt could feel too sorry for himself, Blaine flipped Kurt over and pushed him fully onto the table. Blaine's mouth was on his cock in a second, tight and wet. Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine and fucked into his mouth, feeling Blaine's tongue circle his shaft, licking around him, desperately trying to keep up.  
  
Kurt was moaning, mumbling nonsense, pulling at the ropes, and pounding his hips up into Blaine's mouth. Blaine gave up trying to keep up with Kurt, relaxing his mouth as much as he could to take Kurt in.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Anderson!" Kurt continued to babble. "Yes! Mr. Anderson!"  
  
Blaine chuckled around Kurt's cock as he listened to him ramble. Kurt's hips stuttered at the vibrations. It was the last thing he needed to push him over the edge.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Anderson!" Kurt continued in broken, breathy moans as he spilled into Blaine's mouth. "Yes, Mr. Anderson! Yes! Yes!"  
  
Kurt's legs tightened around Blaine's shoulders, his wrists pulling hard on the ropes that held him, head rolling from side to side. He was laughing, crying, rambling, and moaning all at once, until finally the pumping of his hips ceased, his legs relaxed, and he sank into the felt on the top of the table. Blaine, bent over the table with his head on Kurt's stomach, lay quiet for a moment, catching his breath.  
  
Blaine stood slowly, his locked knees complaining as he straightened too quickly. He looked at Kurt, who rolled onto his side, curled his knees up, and took a deep breath, trying to control his panting.  
  
Blaine climbed onto the table beside him, laying on his side facing him. Kurt's eyes were closed, his lips red and swollen. Kurt looked wrecked, almost broken.  
  
Blaine chuckled nervously.  
  
"I think we ruined the table," he said. Kurt opened his eyes and smiled. Blaine relaxed. As long as Kurt could smile, everything was alright in the world.  
  
"How was that?" Kurt asked, giggling a little as he maneuvered his bound wrists to lie with his head on his hands.  
  
Blaine closed his eyes and smiled.  
  
"I have no words," Blaine said. "Thank you."  
  
Kurt furrowed his brow.  
  
"For what, sweetheart?"  
  
"For your body," Blaine said, running a hand down Kurt's side and along his stomach, "For letting me use it."  
  
Kurt laughed.  
  
"But, mostly for being you. I'm not sure I could do that all the time, but..."  
  
Blaine's words drifted off as his gaze followed his hand and he caught sight of Kurt's hips, littered with crescent shaped dents and deep purple bruises. Blaine's thoughts immediately shifted to Kurt's back, all those black and blues, all the years of locker checks and dumpster tosses.  
  
"Oh, God." Blaine's hands ghosted gently over Kurt's skin. "I did that."  
  
Kurt looked down at his hips.  
  
"It doesn't hurt." Kurt shifted to get up. A pain shot from his ass and radiated down his legs. Kurt winced. "But that might sting for a while."  
  
"Kurt, I..."  
  
Kurt leapt on his boyfriend, straddling his body with legs that no longer wanted to hold up his weight. Kurt kissed him, smiling into it, wide and warm so Blaine could feel it against his lips.  
  
"You were wonderful," Kurt hummed. "That was amazing. Don't you dare apologize."  
  
Blaine put his arms around Kurt's waist, glancing at Kurt's bound wrists. Kurt looped his arms over Blaine's neck, resting his head against Blaine's chest.  
  
"You do look ridiculously gorgeous tied up like this, you know that," Blaine said, nuzzling Kurt's hair with his nose. He kissed Kurt's forehead.  
  
"So, you're staying tomorrow?"  
  
"Yup," Kurt said, closing his eyes and absorbing Blaine's warmth, his touch. "If you don't mind, I would like to get a head start buying furniture, and getting the rooms ready..." Kurt yawned. "Buy some new beds..."  
  
"Kurt," Blaine mumbled, his eyes falling closed as well, "in what universe would I mind?"  
  
Kurt continued to whisper things he wanted to get done, while Blaine made a tiny noise in agreement, until they both drifted off to sleep.  
  



	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another brief interlude with some Niff and some sex before stuff starts to get a little more real. Please to enjoy the fluff of domesticity. Warnings for bondage, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial, ice play, rough sex, and a lot of food.

It was around three in the morning when Blaine awoke, chilled from the morning air. His back ached, his hands trembled, and dried sweat made his skin itch. The chain around his chest felt like ice pressed against his skin.  
  
He only vaguely realized he was on a billiards table.  
  
The dim light of the room made it hard for him to see at first. He sat up to get a look around and saw Kurt. The image made his heart stop. Kurt lay on his side, knees pulled up, hands beneath his head, still very much tied by his wrists. His face was relaxed, so at peace. Bruises littered his body every where Blaine had touched. Kurt looked so much like a fallen angel, it almost hurt Blaine to think about touching him, moving him.  
  
Blaine climbed carefully off the table, his knees stiff and his joints achy. He untied the rope from the table, and then quickly undid the knot around Kurt's wrist. Blaine could see an indent from the rope on Kurt's skin, but no marks or bruises...thank God.  
  
Blaine picked Kurt up off the table and carried the man to his room. Kurt didn't wake, didn't stir at all while Blaine put him to bed, covering him up with a thick blanket. Only then did Kurt snuggle down into the warmth and sigh. Blaine managed with some difficulty to undo the chain. Several times he almost broke down and woke Kurt up for help. When he had finally decided to see if he had any bolt cutters lying around the house, the clasp came undone.  
  
Blaine took a moment to look at Kurt, to soak in the image of this fabulous man lying in his bed. So many times Blaine had dreamed of this, of having Kurt with him, of going to sleep beside him and waking up next to him. Tonight, at least, that dream would come true.  
  
Blaine climbed under the covers beside Kurt and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, filling him with his warmth. Kurt sighed again, melting back into Blaine's embrace. Blaine fell to sleep almost immediately.

* * *

  
Blaine woke to the smell of coffee, bacon and eggs wafting in from somewhere in the house. He wasn't exactly sure from where since he had never woken up to such a smell before. He waited for a moment to see if it would be accompanied by the smell of burning toast, because then he would know he was having a stroke, and would need to call 9-1-1.  
  
Blaine blinked slowly as the smell became stronger. When his vision finally cleared and he realized he was not in need of immediate medical assistance, he saw the most amazing sight. An angel, bringing him breakfast in bed.  
  
"Hey." Kurt, dressed in a white, fluffy robe set a tray on the bed beside Blaine and kissed him on the forehead. "I didn't know what you usually ate for breakfast, so I stopped at the supermarket and got a little bit of everything."  
  
Blaine looked at the tray spread with every conceivable breakfast food known to man - pancakes, French toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, fruit, orange juice, milk, coffee, and...  
  
"Are those crepes?" Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
"A-ha." Kurt smiled. "Nutella crepes." He sat next to the tray, plucking a strawberry off the plate and popping it into his mouth while Blaine grabbed the fork and attacked the crepes. He stuck a bite into his mouth, melted Nutella dripping off his chin, and started to chew. He closed his eyes, a smile of pure pleasure crossing his face, as he chewed carefully.  
  
"Oh my God!" Blaine said after he swallowed. "This has to be the best thing I've ever tasted!"  
  
Kurt giggled, putting a finger beneath Blaine's chin and tilting his chin up just a bit. Kurt leaned in and licked the small drip of Nutella off Blaine's chin.  
  
Blaine smiled at the touch of Kurt's tongue delicately licking the chocolate off of his face.  
  
"The best thing you've ever tasted, huh?" Kurt smirked.  
  
"Well." Blaine cocked his head and gave Kurt a pointed look. "Second best."  
  
Kurt turned away, blushing slightly. He got up to open the drapes on the windows, letting the sun in.  
  
"Boo! Hiss!" Blaine said, mocking pain at the bright light that flooded the room. "What time is it?"  
  
"Ten o'clock," Kurt answered, sitting back down on the bed and watching Blaine devour his food. "When's the last time you ate? 1994?"  
  
"I'm sorry," Blaine said around a bit of sausage. "Keeping up with you has me a little famished. Besides, I have to eat it all before the army you expect arrives."  
  
"Army?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"Yup. I mean, you made a ton of food." Blaine took a big gulp of his orange juice, before closing his eyes and smiling again. "Kurt? Fresh squeezed?"  
  
Kurt nodded, biting his lip.  
  
"Well, I'm used to cooking for six, and two of those are Finn and Dave, so..."  
  
Blaine chuckled as he started in on the pancakes, nodding knowingly.  
  
"Besides," Kurt said, continuing the mostly one sided conversation, "Nick called this morning...about twelve times, as a matter of fact. He and Jeff are coming over to help us pick out furniture. Jeff's bringing over someone named Hunter?"  
  
Blaine nodded again, and swallowed.  
  
"That's the occupational therapist," Blaine explained.  
  
"Well, they're going to be over here soon, so when you're done we should hop in a shower."  
  
Blaine's eyes snapped up.  
  
"We?" he said. "Shower?"  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
"Yes," Kurt said, confused by Blaine's reaction.  
  
Blaine leapt out of bed, grabbing Kurt by the waist and ushering him into the bathroom.  
  
"But...are you even done with breakfast?" Kurt asked.  
  
"Breakfast can wait," Blaine said, almost tearing off Kurt's robe. "Shower sex now."  
  
Before hopping in under the spray with his boyfriend, Blaine sent a hasty message to Nick.  
  
_From: Blaine_  
_In the shower with Kurt. Front door open. Kurt made breakfast. Food in the oven. Help yourself. We might be a while ;)_

* * *

  
Nick took a bite of a crepe and moaned.  
  
"Oh my God!" Nick said as he settled into his boyfriend's arms on the couch. "Shower sex AND he cooks? That man is a God!"  
  
Jeff stiffened beside Nick, looking down at the Entertainment Weekly open in his lap.  
  
"You know," Hunter said as he broke off a piece of his own crepe, "I think you have an unhealthy obsession with Blaine's boyfriend."  
  
"Hunter," Nick started, turning to face the blond man so he could see the seriousness of the subject at hand, "you haven't met him yet. Reserve judgment until you see the man."  
  
"I'm not sure the effect will be the same," Hunter countered. "I mean, I'm not even remotely bi-curious."  
  
That fact didn't seem to matter when Jeff and Hunter were finally faced with the full force of a freshly showered and primped Kurt Hummel, dressed in dark skinny jeans and a form fitting black Henley, pale skin glowing, alluring scent of vanilla filling the room as he walked into it. Nick stood from the couch and immediately threw himself into Kurt's arms. Kurt, charmed by Nick's enthusiasm, as always, wrapped him in his own embrace and smiled as the shorter man bounced in his arms.  
  
"Oh my God, you're here! You're here! I almost didn't believe it! But now you're living here and we're going to see each other all of the time and I didn't know you cooked!" Nick couldn't seem to stop talking, and Kurt blushed furiously under his praise.  
  
Hunter seemed awe struck as he approached the man he had heard so much about.  
  
"Hunter Clarington," he said, extending a hand in welcome the moment Nick let Kurt go. "It's very nice to meet you." Kurt took Hunter's hand to shake it, but caught his breath when the man lifted it to his lips and kissed it gently. Blaine, who watched the scene from behind Kurt, raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt said, turning his head slightly to address his boyfriend. "You didn't tell me you had such charming friends."  
  
"Uh...I never really knew myself," Blaine joked, confused, as he watched the expression on Hunter's face.  
  
"Um, we should go over to the house, don't you think, guys?" Jeff interjected uncomfortably.  
  
Kurt looked up at the new voice, his smile fading slightly when he eyed the man, hands stuffed in his pockets, rolling back and forth on his heels, head ducked slightly.  
  
"Oh!" Nick said, grabbing Jeff's arm and pulling him closer, "I didn't introduce you to my boyfriend Jeff." Nick held Jeff's arm, nudging him a little to say something, but Jeff kept looking down at his shoes.  
  
"Hello, Jeff," Kurt said, stepping forward to get his attention. "I've heard so much about you."  
  
Jeff looked up, the tiniest glimpse of a smile on his face.  
  
"I've...uh...heard a lot about you, too." Jeff blushed.  
  
Kurt wasn't sure he was going to get much more out of Jeff, so he turned to Blaine, extending a hand so he would take it.  
  
"Why don't we get this day started then?" Kurt suggested.

* * *

  
Hunter looked over Eva's room while the painters Blaine hired got to work. He worked up a sketch of the room on his iPad Air, and then ironed out a few details. He asked Kurt about Eva's favorite colors, her favorite toys, and her favorite cartoon characters before getting into specifics about her triggers, her coping mechanisms, her reactions to noise and lights, and even a few things Kurt hadn't thought of like her reaction to certain fabrics, certain patterns, and how she slept at night. Hunter inputted all this information into a program on his tablet and then set out to make a few mock ups of Eva's room.  
  
After talking to Hunter, Kurt sat on the only piece of furniture in the house so far besides Kurt's bed - an old sofa whose days were numbered. Kurt and Blaine argued for all of ten minutes about Blaine's insistence on paying to outfit the rooms before Nick broke out the puppy dog eyes that Kurt was beginning to realize he was powerless against, and surrendered. The two huddled around Nick's laptop computer, shopping on a website that made Kurt cringe because there were no published prices for anything anywhere. Kurt knew that only meant one thing. He huffed a little in frustration.  
  
"Don't you guys ever shop at Sears, or JC Penney's?"  
  
Noise in the house every where stopped dead as Nick, Blaine, and Hunter stared at Kurt with slightly incredulous, and, in the case of Nick, disgusted expressions.  
  
"No," Blaine said, kissing Kurt on the top of the head as he walked by behind him. "Just, no."  
  
Jeff stood at the doorway to Eva's room, glaring at Kurt and Nick. A few times Hunter tried to consult with him. He had asked him the same question three times, but Jeff was too occupied watching his boyfriend fawn all over his new interloping best friend. Jeff curtly said, "Yes, a-ha," until Hunter asked who he thought would win the battle against the alien overlords. When Jeff said, "Yes, a-ha," Hunter shook his head with a laugh and went to back work.  
  
Jeff watched Nick and Kurt with narrow eyes as they picked various items out online and ordered them. Nick kept a hand on Kurt's knee, and Kurt definitely didn't seem to mind. Nick had been right, though, Kurt's body was amazing.  
  
Blaine saw Jeff sulking from across the room.  
  
"You know your boyfriend adores you, right?" Blaine took a place beside Jeff, leaning against the wall.  
  
"Yeah," Jeff said simply.  
  
Blaine nodded at the one word answer.  
  
"Then, maybe could you stop trying to set my boyfriend on fire with your mind?" Blaine put a hand on Jeff's arm.  
  
Jeff sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor.  
  
"I know, it's just...look at them."  
  
Blaine looked up at the two men, laughing over something Nick had just shown Kurt on his cell phone. Blaine smiled.  
  
"You mean the part where they're shopping for Barbie bed sheets, or the fact that Nick just showed Kurt the thirtieth picture he has on his phone of you in that high school production of The Nutcracker Suite?"  
  
Jeff looked up to see Kurt swiping at the screen of Nick's phone, stopping on a picture that Jeff had taken for the poster of that performance. Nick said something, and Kurt 'awwwed;, handing the phone back to Nick. Then the two turned back to the laptop and started ordering pillow cases.  
  
"Jeff..." Blaine squeezed his arm. "Nick loves having Kurt as a friend because Kurt is a little more like him and a little less like you."  
  
Jeff nodded again, watching as Nick turned to look at him, blowing him a kiss before turning back to Kurt.  
  
"Besides," Blaine whispered, "his knowing Kurt hasn't been all bad, has it?"  
  
Blaine moved his hand to clamp gently over a fading scar covered slightly by a bracelet made of wooden prayer beads. Jeff blushed before rolling his eyes and looking up at the ceiling.  
  
"No," Jeff said. "No, it hasn't."

* * *

  
Three hours later the walls and ceilings were completely painted, furniture ordered, floors refinished, and a plan in place for Eva's new room. Kurt didn't even want to begin to think about what everything must have cost.  
  
Nick threw his arms around Kurt's neck, not wanting to leave.  
  
"Oh my God, it's so great that you're here!" He giggled into Kurt's neck for the umpteenth time. "I'm soooo happy! We're going to see each other, like every day! It's going to be the best!"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately, and beamed at the excited man.  
  
"Yes, Nick." Kurt pecked Nick lightly on the cheek. "It will."  
  
Nick blushed, making his way toward the door. Kurt turned to see Jeff following Nick. Kurt stepped forward, catching Jeff's arm gently with his hand.  
  
"Hey, Jeff. Can I talk to you for a second?"  
  
Jeff shrugged, mumbling something under his breath. Kurt led him to a far corner of the room, Nick and Blaine's eyes following them the entire way.  
  
Nick and Blaine couldn't hear a word the two said. Kurt stayed close to Jeff, talking with his hands, gesturing and making motions that either looked very clinical or otherwise extremely suggestive. Once or twice, Kurt leaned in close, talking directly into the other man's ear. Eventually, Jeff was smiling...then, he started blushing. He ducked his head and nodded a couple of times, and then laughed.  
  
At the end of the conversation, Jeff wrapped Kurt in a genuine embrace, kissing him on the cheek with a giggle. He walked to meet his boyfriend at the front door, wrapping an affectionate arm around Blaine in a hug good-bye before literally picking Nick up and carrying him to his car.  
  
"Well, I don't think we're going to be hearing from them for the rest of the afternoon." Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist and kissed him gently.  
  
"What did you say to him?" Blaine asked with a chuckle.  
  
"I...just...gave him a suggestion," Kurt said.  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt with a smirk.  
  
"Can you show me?"

* * *

  
"Oh my God, Kurt!" Blaine yelled, louder than normal because of the iPod blasting Katy Perry into his ears. Blaine opened his eyes, looking around fruitlessly as the blindfold over was tied snugly and wouldn't shift. He pulled on the ropes that had him tied in an iron cross position to Kurt's bed. Kurt's nose brushed against the base of the leather cock ring, secured over Blaine's erection while Kurt sucked him slowly, lazily, several small ice chips melting in his mouth. Kurt fucked Blaine steadily with a prostate wand, alternating between keeping it turned off, switching it to high, and then putting it on low.  
  
Blaine wanted to cum, had been so close for so long, but he also didn't want it to end. So many sensations flooded his body. Kurt hadn't given him time to object when he had tied Blaine to the bed. Blaine wanted to know if Kurt had ever been in the Navy because good God could this man tie a knot. Blaine pulled on the ropes experimentally, but the knots only became tighter. The black wand vibrating in his ass had been assaulting him for over an hour. The moments Kurt turned the wand off offered almost no relief because it just made things that much more intense when he turned it back on. As with almost everything Kurt did, there was no discernible pattern. Blaine never knew how high the vibrator would be set when Kurt turned it back on. Kurt moved it in slow circles around, then back and forth, in and out, too much, not enough, and on more than one occasion, "Oh my God!"  
  
Except for "Oh my God!", Blaine had completely lost the ability to use human speech. He couldn't hear himself talk, but he had still tried to say something. The vibrations around his cock from Kurt laughing told Blaine that he had failed that task astronomically.  
  
The ice - that was just insult onto injury. It was bad enough that the cock ring kept him from cumming, but the ice kept him in a permanent state of not exactly aching, but so close. He wanted to fuck into Kurt's mouth, wanted friction desperately, but every time Blaine bucked his hips, Kurt would set the wand to high and leave the room. Blaine learned pretty quickly to keep still.  
  
Breaking didn't speed things along either. At one point, Blaine did become at peace with his body, long enough to still his urges and his reactions, quiet his whimpers, keep his hips from moving, but he was only rewarded with more vigorous sucking. Kurt had another agenda, and it had nothing to do with breaking Blaine...just torturing. This time around, Blaine's role as sub was different. He was more of a plaything. Kurt was delighting in his lack of restraint, not praising him for his self control.  
  
In short, Blaine didn't see an end in sight. It was both maddening and excruciatingly hot.  
  
Kept in the dark, and unable to hear anything but music, Blaine had no idea how much time had passed. Blaine tried to concentrate on the songs, figuring out how long he'd been tied down by the duration of each one, but Kurt started fast forwarding and rewinding songs in the middle at random and Blaine lost his place.  
  
Blaine was at a breaking point. He actually began to whimper as if he were on the edge of tears, willing to do anything if Kurt would only release him. He may have even said something to that affect, but he couldn't tell.  
  
Kurt stopped. His mouth was gone. The ice was gone. The wand was gone. Blaine was cooling off just a bit. He felt the urges curb, restrained by the cock ring. He felt Kurt lube him up.  
  
Blaine flexed his fingers, pulling on the ropes. Kurt turned the iPod off and took the earbuds out of Blaine's ears. Then he removed the blindfold.  
  
Blaine watched Kurt carefully. He felt strange, caged, wild, almost like an animal. Every time he tried to force himself to think rationally, something else washed it away. Kurt slowly removed the cock ring. Blaine watched Kurt's face, almost unable to remove his eyes from it, wary of what Kurt might do next.  
  
Kurt was naked, smirking devilishly. He walked to the vanity and produced a rather intimidating looking switchblade. Blaine's eyes followed him as he walked, his mind blank except for a few desperate thoughts. His heart raced, his breathing erratic. Kurt took one last look into Blaine's eyes. He moved forward as if to kiss him, and saw Blaine lunge at him in response.  
  
"Perfect," Kurt said, pulling out of Blaine's reach before their lips could connect.  
  
Blaine watched the blade as it moved, slicing through the nylon rope like it was cutting through butter. As soon as Blaine could feel blood rush back into his hands, his reaction was instant. Without a single conscious thought, he pounced on Kurt. Blaine grabbed him, crashing their lips together, dragging his body up the bed almost enitirely by his hand in Kurt's hair. Blaine's hands grabbed Kurt's ass, kneading them roughly as he rutted against Kurt's hard cock, devouring his mouth with his kisses.  
  
It wasn't enough.  
  
Blaine flipped Kurt over, grabbing his ass cheeks and spreading them. He saw Kurt's hole, glistening and stretched. Blaine looked over his shoulder for just a second, noticing a towel on the floor with a thick blue dildo laying on it. Kurt must have been prepping himself with it while he was tormenting Blaine. Kurt had planned for this reaction.  
  
The thought made Blaine burn.  
  
He slipped easily inside Kurt this time - no burn, no sting, barely any stretch. That was fine with Blaine. Kurt was hot and wet and for some reason, right now that was all that mattered.  
  
Blaine fucked Kurt. It was simple and it was animal. He pinned Kurt's arms above his head as he slammed into him, unrestrained, unforgiving. Blaine could hear his own blood rushing in his ears as he pounded, quick and hard and dirty. Blaine couldn't get as deep as he wanted at this angle. He grabbed Kurt's hips and pulled him up to his knees, settling into Kurt's body easier and with more force. Kurt tried to push himself up to his elbows, but it changed the angle again, made it less intense. Without thinking, Blaine pushed down on Kurt's back, forcing his face into the pillows with Kurt emitting an undignified, "Oompf!"  
  
Everything disappeared for Blaine except the feeling of his cock plunging in and out of Kurt's intense heat, the smooth slide, the friction. All that mattered was cumming, cumming inside of Kurt. Blaine's fingers dug into old marks on Kurt's hips, bruising old bruises. Suddenly, heat was everywhere. The breeze blowing in through the open window did nothing to cool Blaine's skin. Blaine's only thought, only instinct, was to fuck, to fuck Kurt, to fuck him hard.  
  
Head pushed to the mattress, slight whimpers muffled by the pillow under his face, Kurt loved this side of Blaine. Sure, given the choice he would always pick making love to Blaine. Soft touches, gentle kisses, shy smiles when their eyes met and Blaine or Kurt whispered, "I love you." But Kurt knew that Blaine would be returning to the studio soon for filming, and he knew there would be some fall out for Kurt moving to L.A. He knew Blaine would need to face them alone.  
  
He wanted Blaine to know he wasn't a doormat.  
  
He wanted to remind Blaine that he was a man. A man that could stand up to the Brads and the Mias and the Sebastians of the world and win.  
  
If Blaine could get _Kurt_ on his knees, what couldn't he do?  
  
Blaine was a bundle of nerves about to implode. He bit his lip as he looked at his beautiful black swan on his knees. He felt Kurt's legs quiver, felt him squeeze around his cock. He heard Kurt's whimpers turn into breathy pants. He knew Kurt was close.  
  
Blaine wanted Kurt to moan his name, and there was only one sure fire way to make that happen.  
  
Blaine spanked Kurt once, hard, and smiled wide as Kurt arched his back, and Blaine got what he wanted.  
  
"Blaine!"  
  
Another spank, and the reaction got better.  
  
"God, Blaine! Yes!"  
  
One more, and Kurt turned into a babbling mess.  
  
Blaine got a sudden stroke of genius.  
  
He pulled on Kurt's shoulders, bringing him up high on his knees until his back was almost pressed against Blaine's chest. Instead, Blaine grabbed Kurt's arms and held them behind his back for leverage as he fucked up into him.  
  
He felt Kurt tremble, watched his head roll manically on his shoulders as he tried to get a glimpse of Blaine, tried to rationalize this new position he was in, tried to control the waves crashing over him.  
  
"Oh, yes, Blaine." Kurt's pleas were soft. "Yes, Blaine. There. Just...just do that..."  
  
Kurt went still, giving in to Blaine, and Blaine watched as his boyfriend's muscles shook gently, rippling slightly, eyes closed, face to the ceiling, as he came beneath Blaine's thrusts. Even as he had spilled his last, he still moaned, still whispered Blaine's name. Kurt didn't give in to exhaustion, to the strain on his muscles until Blaine came, too, unwilling to stop pounding inside him even when his cock became so sensitive it hurt, and he started to soften. Blaine wanted more.  
  
Blaine noticed Kurt's head drop forward, his muscles go slack. He stopped, slowly laying Kurt down on the bed. Blaine knew he should clean them up, but he was worried about Kurt, whose eyes hadn't fluttered open yet. Blaine held Kurt's hand, rubbing it gently.  
  
"Kurt?"  
  
Blaine watched Kurt's body beneath the blankets, keeping an eye on the rise and fall of his chest. Blaine brushed sweaty bangs away from Kurt's forehead. Kurt's skin twitched at the touch, his eyes slowly blinking as they fought to open.  
  
"Oh," Kurt said, putting a shaking hand to his pounding head. "So, that's what that's like." Kurt tried to sit up, but groaned as he slid back down.  
  
Blaine giggled.  
  
"What happened?" Blaine asked.  
  
"I...I think I held my breath," Kurt admitted sheepishly.  
  
"Oops," he whispered. Kurt smiled.  
  
Blaine kissed him - their first kiss since this began.  
  
"How...how did you do that?" Blaine asked.  
  
"Hmm, do what?" Kurt asked, squinting against the suddenly too bright afternoon sunlight.  
  
"How did you get me to act like that?" Blaine switched to Kurt's other side, blocking the sun from his eyes. "I would never normally do that. It was like I couldn't stop myself."  
  
Kurt laughed - one tiny, choked sound.  
  
"Sensory deprivation," Kurt explained. "I took away your sense of sight and focused your hearing. I tapped a bit into your fight or flight reflex, which brings out your primitive brain. Then I directed that primitive brain where I wanted it to go. By the time you lost your ability to speak cognitively and started whimpering and baby talking, I knew you were pretty much ready."  
  
Blaine looked at his boyfriend with an awed, and perhaps frightened expression.  
  
"Kurt..." Blaine didn't know how he felt about that. "That's, like, mind control shit."  
  
Kurt laughed.  
  
"Maybe a bit," Kurt responded. "But the results are kind of cool."  
  
"How did you figure that out?"  
  
Kurt shrugged.  
  
"I read a lot."  
  
"Okay," Blaine said, kissing Kurt again slowly. "That's hot. My incredibly smart boyfriend is super hot."  
  
Kurt giggled.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of Kurt's iPhone vibrating caught their attention. Kurt was in no condition to get up so Blaine picked it up and handed it to him. Kurt unlocked the screen and checked the message, barking immediately with laughter as he handed the phone to Blaine.  
  
Blaine laughed out loud as he read the text.  
  
_From: Nick_  
_Have I ever told you how much I love you, Kurt Hummel? Meow ;) When's the next time you can talk to Jeff again?_

* * *

  
Blaine and Kurt fell asleep in each other's arms. It was becoming a habit, Blaine realized, that he hoped he could keep. Kurt opened his eyes, blinking up through the dim light to look into Blaine's face.  
  
"I should go," Kurt said, making to sit up.  
  
Those three words put Blaine into a panic.  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
Kurt was going to leave. What if he left and didn't come back?  
  
Kurt seemed to sense Blaine's worry. He kissed his forehead.  
  
"Well, I have to help Dave with the rest of the packing," Kurt said. "And we promised the kids we'd take them to Legoland one last time before we left San Diego."  
  
Blaine stood up and followed Kurt.  
  
"Um, Kurt?" Blaine caught Kurt's hips and turned him around to face him. "I don't go back to the lot to film until Monday, so...um...can I come?"  
  
Kurt looked confused.  
  
"Come?"  
  
"With you. I can help pack...I'll sleep on the floor in the living room. I'd like to spend time with you guys and the kids."  
  
Kurt looked at him like he was crazy.  
  
"You want to sleep on our crappy floor, help us pack our shit, and go with four crazy kids to Legoland?"  
  
"Yes," Blaine said quickly, nodding. He didn't want to be without Kurt. He couldn't stand the thought of being in L.A. alone.  
  
Kurt's face softened.  
  
He understood.  
  
"Of course," Kurt said. "Actually..." Kurt bit his lip,"Dave had asked me to ask if you wanted to come."  
  
Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah!" Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "It seems Eva won't stop asking about you. He was hoping if you came with us, she'd shut up about you for a while."  
  
Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt. Then he froze.  
  
_'Legoland with Kurt, Dave, and the kids. Oh, boy...'_  



	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for sex, and talk of Rachel and Finn.

Blaine left the keys with a very disheveled looking Nick, who agreed to hang out at the house the following day and wait for the furniture to arrive while they were gone.  
  
Kurt and Blaine rode in a comfortable, peaceful silence all the way to San Diego. Kurt looked out the window and watched the night sky, while Blaine was given the honor of driving Kurt's Honda.  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt and smiled. This was the way his life was supposed to be. Quiet moments with the man that he loved, not lying about who he really was to people he'd never met, hectic shooting schedules with co-stars he barely tolerated, and bending over backwards for throngs of people he'd never remember anyway. He liked this Blaine, the one he was now, driving to spend the night with his boyfriend's family.  
  
In a way, it felt like he was taking back something in his life that he never got the chance to have.  
  
Kurt fell asleep half way through the trip, and woke again when they exited the highway. Kurt put a hand on Blaine's knee, and Blaine covered it with his own.  
  
They got to the house a little after eight. Every light was still on, and through the windows, Kurt could see a mountain of boxes forming. Two sets of eyes peeked through the blinds as Blaine cut the engine. Beyond them, seated on the couch, bouncing up and down, Kurt could see Eva, waving wildly with her fingers dancing through the air.  
  
Kurt walked around to Blaine's side of the car and took his hand, squeezing gently.  
  
"I have to warn you..." Kurt's voice sounded serious as they approached the back door, "Eva has literally been dying to see you."  
  
Blaine nodded as he listened.  
  
"She might be a little manic. She might scream. She might even throw stuff. It's normal. That's just how she expresses excitement." Kurt sighed as he fitted the key into the lock. Blaine put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I just don't want it to turn you off," Kurt confessed without turning to look into Blaine's eyes. Blaine rested his head against Kurt's shoulder.  
  
"This is really new for me," Blaine admitted. "I won't lie. It might take me time. But, I'm going to do my best."  
  
Kurt turned this time, rubbing his nose against Blaine's.  
  
"And I'll help you." Kurt smiled. "I promise."  
  
Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine, but the door flew open, and Kurt and Blaine were face to face with Dave, hair sticking up in all directions, Eva's thin body wrapped awkwardly around his. Dave shifted her from hip to hip, trying to negotiate the cast on her leg. Eva babbled non-stop, reaching out for Blaine, brown eyes wide and unblinking. For whatever reason Blaine didn't understand, he reached his arms out and took the girl from Dave. She settled down almost immediately, still babbling but much more quietly. She rested her head on Blaine's shoulder and stuck her hand into his hair, twirling the curls around her fingers, giggling when they sprang free and bounced back.  
  
Dave looked spell bound, watching the girl who had pretty much run amuck nonstop for three days straight quiet in the arms of Blaine Anderson. Kurt couldn't help the smile on his own face as he watched Blaine look into Eva's eyes, listening intently to whatever she was trying to tell him.  
  
Dave blew out a long breath.  
  
"Well, that's a relief," he said, turning to walk back inside. Blaine and Kurt followed, shutting and locking the door behind them. Finn and Barbra crowded Kurt when he walked into the living room, hugging him and telling him how much they missed him...and in the case of Finn, how much he missed Kurt's pancakes. Both children eyed Blaine strangely when they saw him carrying their sister, but decided not to say anything. Blaine was pretty much perceived now as their savior and for the most part could do no wrong.  
  
"I have almost everything we didn't want the movers to pack boxed up, I think." Dave motioned to the wall of boxes surrounding the kitchen and living room. "Everyone's clothes have been boxed up, except for what they need for the next few days, and I got a wardrobe box for your clothes since I know you don't fold anything."  
  
"My clothes thank you, Dave." Kurt nodded  
  
"And since you refuse to take any of the furniture," Dave continued, "I would have to say you rented a moving van just to relocate your clothes."  
  
"Totally worth it," Kurt responded.  
  
Dave yawned, squinting his eyes as he looked at the clock on the microwave. Kurt put a hand on his arm.  
  
"You should get some sleep, hon," Kurt said, but Dave shook his head stubbornly.  
  
"I'm not too sure that your man is going to be able to help with the packing." Dave motioned over Kurt's shoulder to where Blaine sat on the couch with Eva in his lap. She picked up two mermaid dolls and shoved one in his hands. Kurt laughed.  
  
"Yeah, I see your point."  
  
Kurt looked at the work that still needed to be done.  
  
"Well," he said, finally. "Let's get this done."  
  
Fifteen full boxes and three mermaid movies later, Dave and Kurt called it quits. Blaine had fallen asleep, sitting on the living room floor, back propped up against the sofa, with Eva in his lap, her hand curled up tight in the collar of his shirt while she sucked her thumb. Dave tried to pick her up and take her to bed, but every time he tried to lift her, she whimpered, tightening her grip on Blaine's shirt.  
  
"Let her be," Kurt finally decided. "We'll keep her out here with us. Just get the other kids in bed."  
  
Kurt grabbed some blankets and chairs and built a tiny fort in the living room over Blaine and Eva. Eva was very particular about where she slept. When she was younger and had nightmares, Kurt would have to take her into the living room to keep her from waking everyone else. She wouldn't sleep without a fort. Kurt didn't quite understand why, but that was Eva.  
  
Kurt brought out pillows and placed them on the floor, then gently maneuvered the two onto them. Neither woke up.  
  
Kurt sighed, fondly realizing that he'd probably just lost his boyfriend to a beautiful, young brunette.

* * *

  
Legoland with Kurt's family was an interesting experience for Blaine. He wasn't entirely sure what to expect. On other occasions, he'd seen other families with their children, and generally shunned the idea. Kids were always loud, parents were always overwrought, and in the end, it never really seemed to be any fun. His parents never really did the amusement park thing when he was younger, so his own personal experience was a little lacking.  
  
Kurt and Dave definitely had a system, and the kids knew it by heart. Certain places were hit first, rides gone on in a specific order, and no deviation was allowed. Blaine spent most of his time with Eva, who was still in a wheelchair, and even though he had been able to break through the barrier with the most difficult to reach member of the family, he still felt like an outsider.  
  
Usually Dave and Kurt split up, leaving Dave to ride the roller coasters with Finn, and Kurt to hang out in the playground with the three girls, but this time they rented a wheelchair for Barbra so walking wouldn't be an issue. They hung around together all day in one big group.  
  
Dave watched Blaine and Eva, and as happy as he was that the two of them got along with no apparent problems, he could see that the other two children generally kept their distance. Dave knew that Kurt was in love with Blaine, and that Blaine would most likely be around for a long time.  
  
"Hey, Anderson," Dave called to him as they approached The Dragon coaster. Blaine looked up from where he was pointing out different things on the map and telling Eva their names. "I'm exhausted from all the packing you didn't do last night." Dave smirked, but Blaine just looked incredibly guilty.  
  
"Sorry about that, man," Blaine started. Dave waved a hand.  
  
"That's alright. I just thought we'd shake things up a little bit, since you're here."  
  
Blaine turned to Kurt, who raised an eyebrow in his direction.  
  
"Barbra never really gets to go on the rides, so, why don't you and Kurt take Barbra and Finn on The Dragon?"  
  
Kurt turned to Dave.  
  
"Are you sure, Dave?" Kurt asked, looking once at Blaine and then back to Dave. "I mean, will you be okay with Elphaba and Eva alone?"  
  
"Well," Dave said, pretending to sound offended, "I'm no Blaine Anderson, but I'm sure I can take care of Eva for half an hour while you guys ride the roller coaster."  
  
Blaine smiled. He planted a tiny kiss on the top of Eva's head, grabbing Kurt's hand as he took his place behind Barbra's wheelchair and raced up the ramp to the ride with Finn following closely behind.  
  
The rest of the day went along this way, with the adults alternating between watching Eva and Elphaba and riding the roller coasters with Barbra and Finn. At one point, when it was his turn to go, Dave watched with a smile and a small twinge in his chest as Finn grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him along, jabbering excitedly about a ride he and Dave rarely go on. Kurt saw Dave's sad smile, and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing affectionately.  
  
Blaine Anderson was now a part of the family.  
  
Blaine noticed that, for the most part, the four Hudson kids were as good as gold. Finn didn't complain when he was asked to watch his younger siblings for any reason, though with three adults, that didn't happen much. The kids didn't whine for anything, not when they were hungry or tired. They didn't ask for a single thing. They all just seemed content to be with each other, to be here at the park, and to enjoy time together.  
  
For two people who constantly bemoaned knowing anything about children, they seemed to be doing something right.  
  
Blaine barely registered the presence of other people, even the ones that seemed to notice him and take his photograph. He didn't feel like Blaine the t.v. star here. It was easy to get lost in the joy of this little family, and think of nothing else.  
  
Well, nothing except for the fact that he'd barely kissed his boyfriend all day; a fact he made sure to rectify as Dave and the kids waited on line for apple fries and little Eva was preoccupied with a cup of ice.  
  
They stayed at the park until close to dinner time, way later then Kurt and Dave had ever been able to keep the kids at Legoland before. Every one was happily exhausted.  
  
After returning Barbra's rented wheelchair, Blaine offered to carry Eva so that Kurt could push Barbra back to the car. Dave carried Elphaba, and Finn shuffled along, smiling and yawning.  
  
"So, what do you guys usually do now?" Blaine asked, whispering to Kurt as Eva nodded off on his shoulder.  
  
"Mmm," Kurt hummed, looking over at his boyfriend. "Happy Meals for the kids, a ten minute argument over Dave not getting a cheeseburger which ends with Dave getting a cheeseburger, and quiet nibbling as we drive home."  
  
Blaine nodded, smiling mischievously.  
  
"Too bad we won't be in the car alone," Blaine said, motioning to Eva, "because I can think of about eight different ways quiet nibbling on the drive home could be lots of fun."

* * *

  
Blaine helped finish the packing while Kurt and Dave got the kids ready for bed. This time, Eva slept in her own bed, leaving Kurt and Blaine in the living room fort alone.  
  
"I'm sorry, Blaine," Kurt whispered, closing his eyes as Blaine kissed hungrily down his neck. "I refuse to have sex on the living room floor where any body can walk in and see us."  
  
"We don't have to have sex, per se," Blaine giggled, licking a stripe up to Kurt's earlobe and then nibbling gently. "But I figure we can do everything but."  
  
"Uh," Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine, drawing him closer to his body, feeling his cock hard and straining as it rubbed against his thigh. "It depends on your definition of 'everything' because mine's pretty extensive."  
  
Blaine smiled against his neck.  
  
"Oh, I don't know..." Blaine sucked on a spot beneath Kurt's ear. Kurt bit his lip hard, not wanting to moan out loud, and melted against Blaine's body. He slipped a hand into Kurt's pants and gently stroked his erection. Kurt bit his lip harder. "I have a few ideas."  
  
Blaine continued to pump slowly, watching Kurt squeeze his eyes shut, looking almost tortured in his attempts to stay quiet. Blaine loved watching Kurt's lip quiver, watch the slight tremble of his cheek as he fought back a moan, but at the same time buck up his hips to meet Blaine's fist wrapped tightly around him.  
  
Kurt held Blaine tight, digging his nails into his back through his shirt. Kurt dropped his head to Blaine's shoulder. Blaine kissed Kurt's forehead sweetly, enjoying the feeling of Kurt helpless against him. He loved being able to give Kurt pleasure.  
  
Kurt felt a surprisingly slick finger circle his entrance. His eyes flew open in shock as he moved his head slightly against Blaine's kisses and noticed a bottle of lube lying closed on the blanket.  
  
"H-how did I n-not notice that?" Kurt mumbled, groaning slightly as Blaine gently pushed a finger inside Kurt's entrance.  
  
"I don't know," Blaine whispered against Kurt's skin. "I think I'm being a little distracting."  
  
Kurt tried to take a moment to think of the situation rationally. The living room was pitch dark. They were in a fort and covered by several blankets. The kids had passed out, and the likelihood of Dave waking up and walking in was next to nil.  
  
So Kurt decided to relax and give in to Blaine's talented fingers as they slipped slowly over his cock and dipped in and out of his hole. Blaine added a second finger, and Kurt moaned softly. But even three fingers wasn't enough. Kurt quickly fumbled with the waistband of Blaine's sleep pants in the dark. Kurt kissed Blaine, biting his lower lip tenderly as he lowered Blaine's pants to just below the swell of his ass. Then he lubed Blaine over. He turned his back to Blaine so that he could slip quickly inside Kurt.  
  
There they lay, Blaine with his arms wrapped around Kurt, kissing tenderly down the back of his neck, moving slowly in and out his boyfriend. Kurt whimpered softly into the dark, Blaine sliding inside him perfectly, slowly stroking him right where he needed, his entire body tingling beneath Blaine's touch.  
  
"Oh, God," Kurt moaned as Blaine rubbed his shoulders.  
  
"How do you feel, baby?" Blaine asked, rubbing along Kurt's sides with firm strokes, easing the tension from his muscles.  
  
"Just...so relaxed," Kurt moaned, trying not to move back against Blaine's cock. "I could just stay like this with you forever."  
  
Blaine closed his eyes.  
  
Forever. That's a good start.  
  
Blaine kept his pace slow, steady, massaging over Kurt's skin with his fingertips. He couldn't stop touching him. He felt Kurt tremble after each stroke, felt him clench around him, felt him become restless as he looped his arms over Blaine's neck and ran his fingers through his curls. Blaine held Kurt tight against him, knowing that they were both close.  
  
"I love you," Blaine whispered, not wanting this moment to end.  
  
"I love you, too, Blaine." Kurt's breathy whisper barely made it back to him.  
  
Blaine put his hands on Kurt's naked hips, moving a little faster as need hit him...still smooth and steady, only quicker. Kurt pulled Blaine's lips down to his neck, to that spot at the juncture of his shoulder and his neck that Blaine liked to bite and suck.  
  
Blaine bit down hard, sweeping his tongue over the bite, and Kurt came, moaning a little louder than he wanted to. Kurt's loss of control brought Blaine with him, and even though he would have loved to take Kurt up on his original offer of forever, he couldn't last after feeling Kurt close in around him and hearing him moan.  
  
The weight of the day pressed down on them. Blaine barely managed to tuck himself back in his pants and secure the bottle of lube before he drifted away to sleep with Kurt in his arms.

* * *

  
Kurt and Blaine were awoken the next morning by the sound of children racing into the living room and leaping onto the couch. The movers had arrived early, and Dave was already directing them to the tower of boxes that filled the dining room and most of the living room. Dave smirked as he deposited an agitated Eva between the couple on the floor, taking in Kurt and Blaine's disheveled state with a shake of his head.  
  
The plan had been for Blaine and Dave to help the movers with the boxes, and drive up to the new house as a small caravan, but having new people in the house upset Eva. For the first half hour, she took solace curling up in Blaine's shirt, mumbling about 'people' and 'feet' and 'loud, loud, loud!' when the back door constantly slammed shut. Even the comfort of Blaine's shirt wasn't enough though, and Kurt gave her a portable DVD player and her favorite movie. That worked for all of ten minutes, until one of the movers made the mistake of coming into Eva's line of sight to ask Blaine a question. She startled and screamed, pushing the DVD player to the floor. She hid her eyes and covered her ears, stiffening like a board as she rocked back and forth.  
  
Poor Blaine was beside himself. Luckily, Eva let him wrap his arms around her to keep her from falling backward off his legs. Kurt came over when he heard Eva scream.  
  
"I'm so sorry!" Kurt exclaimed. "She doesn't like strange people in her personal space, or loud noises, and the door and the footsteps..."  
  
Kurt looked almost frantic himself, as if every time Eva went off, he might come closer to losing Blaine.  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
"I just feel bad for her," Blaine said, reaching out and taking Kurt's hand reassuringly in his. "I don't want her to be upset. Do you think Dave can handle things here on his own? Maybe we should take the kids and head up now."  
  
As always, Kurt was amazed at how well Blaine seemed to adapt to the crazy that Kurt called life.  
  
"Yeah," Kurt said. "Let me go see."  
  
Dave and Kurt spoke for a moment - about plans, about memories, about the hopes they had when they first moved in to this nightmare of a house and how they all seemed to be coming true.  
  
Dave took the keys to the Honda, and Kurt took the keys to the van. Blaine helped load up Eva and Elphaba. Barbra and Finn claimed their own seats and buckled in with a bag between them filled with crayons, video games, books, and a lonely pack of cards that rarely saw the light of day.  
  
Dave gave Kurt and Blaine each a hug.  
  
"Now, you have the directions?" Blaine asked. He put a hand up on the window of the van. Eva giggled from inside, and put her hand over his on the opposite side of the glass. Dave watched them with amused interest.  
  
"Yes, I have the ones you texted me, the page you printed out from MapQuest, and the ones Kurt inputted in my phone." Dave laughed. "At this point, I think I'd have to be an idiot to get lost."  
  
Dave turned to Kurt, who bounced on the balls of his feet before the two of them threw their arms around each other and hugged fiercely.  
  
"We're doing it, Dave!" Kurt said with a squeal. "We're getting the heck out of dodge!"  
  
Dave laughed.  
  
"Yes, we are." Dave picked Kurt up and shook him like a doll before returning him to his feet.  
  
"Get going!" Dave turned Kurt around and pushed him lightly forward. "I'll meet you guys in a couple of hours."  
  
Kurt climbed in the driver's side of the van. He buckled in, looking around him to make sure that everyone else was buckled. He looked at Blaine sitting beside him and sighed.  
  
"Come on, baby," Blaine said, leaning in to peck Kurt on the cheek. "Let's go home."  
  
Kurt put the car into gear, waving at Dave through the rear view as he pulled out of the car port. As they turned the corner, Kurt saw their neighbors, huddled in a small group, overjoyed at the van's departure. Kurt refused to look at them, or yell the one of 800 things he had it in his mind to say. So he opted instead to simply and elegantly flip them off.

* * *

  
Nick and Jeff were still at the house when the four kids, led by Kurt and Blaine, arrived a few hours later. Nick was overjoyed to see them, introducing himself to each of the kids as they came in. Little Eva peeked at Nick and Jeff with one eye from over Blaine's shoulder, and since they had been warned that this would most likely be her reaction, they kept a quietly respectful distance, allowing her to investigate them first before she came to a decision.  
  
Nick had been busy the day before, inventorying each delivery to make sure everything arrived and was set up in the correct room. But since he was left pretty much to his own devices, he had planned a little surprise of his own.  
  
He set Finn and Barbra up in front of their doors, directing Kurt in front of Elphaba's and Blaine in front of Eva's, telling them with much dramatic flair to hold on until every one was in their places. Then, he gave them a signal to open their doors.  
  
Kurt walked into Elphaba's room. He could hear the joyous whoops of the children in the other rooms. Kurt looked around at the room that Elphaba would soon inhabit, putting the squirming girl down on the brand new pale green carpet. The furniture they had ordered was there, white and perfect, with matching pink sheets and curtains on the windows. Two things in particular stood out that had tears forming in Kurt's eyes. One was the beautiful mural on the wall of a green meadow, trees in the distance and clouds in the sky, tiny animals racing all around. In the foreground, a mother deer and her fawn basked in the sun.  
  
On the wall opposite hung photos in brightly colored frames. Photos Kurt hadn't allowed himself to look at in years. A picture of Rachel holding Elphaba in the hospital, another of Finn looking into his daughter's face, one of Barbra and Finn, Jr. huddled around Kurt's dad while he held the baby in his arms. There were a total of seven framed photos of Elphaba from before Finn and Rachel had died. Underneath those were seven more recent photos. These were all of Kurt, Dave, and the kids.  
  
"A friend of mine from the props department came by and did the murals," Nick said quietly, walking up behind Kurt. "There's a different one in each of the kids' rooms. It was Blaine's idea to get the photos. He got some from your dad and Dave and..."  
  
Before Nick could say another word, he had a crying Kurt in his arms. Never one to let anyone cry alone, Nick was soon in tears, too, his arms wrapped around the taller man, chin hooked over his shoulder.  
  
"Oh," Nick said, "you don't like it! I'm so sorry!"  
  
Kurt shook his head, holding Nick tighter.  
  
"Oh, Nick," he sobbed. "I love it. I really do. I just...I love it."  
  
Nick ran a soothing hand up and down Kurt's back. Kurt sniffled.  
  
"I would like to see the other rooms if that's alright."  
  
"Of course." Nick pulled away, producing a small packet of tissues from his pockets. Kurt smirked as he took one.  
  
"I came prepared," Nick said sheepishly, "just in case."  
  
Kurt turned to find Elphaba asleep in her new bed and smiled.  
  
"I guess she'll be okay for a while."  
  
Nick offered Kurt an arm. Kurt smiled as he looped his arm through, and Nick pulled him from the room.  
  
Finn's room had a mural of Paper Mario on his wall, and for Barbra, several scenes from multiple Barbie movies. He watched as she walked slowly from one to the other, running her fingers delicately over Barbie as a fairy, Barbie as a mermaid, Barbie on a surfboard. Each room had similar photos of each child with Finn and Rachel, with Burt and Carole, with Kurt and Dave. Finn's room had a photo of his dad in his letter man's jacket, and one of him in his football jersey. Barbra's room had a photo of her mom as the lead in the high school musical, West Side Story.  
  
The room Hunter had put together for Eva was the most spectacular thing. Kurt had told Hunter that Eva's favorite color was blue, so her room was painted the palest, calmest shade of blue Kurt had even seen. Hunter had a special carpet installed on the floor that would minimize sound and not be too harsh on Eva's bare feet. He also had special windows installed that darkened with bright sunlight and eliminated noise from outside. Instead of having a mural that covered a full wall, there was a smaller mural of a tiny collection of clouds painted into the corner. In the distance was a far away castle, and perched on a cloud was the Sandman, since Kurt mentioned Eva's favorite book was The Story of Sanderson Mansnoozie. Instead of a collection of photos on her wall, there was one - a large collage with one picture of each family member, their name labeled underneath. There were special pillows to sit on in the corner and a bookcase with board books. That's where Eva and Blaine sat, reading their fifth book it seemed judging from the pile collecting by Blaine's side. All of her furniture was made of heavy wood, and secured to the walls, including a special storage unit with a plain blue colored door to keep visual clutter out of sight.  
  
Whatever Blaine was paying Hunter, it wasn't enough.  
  
Blaine looked up and saw a teary eyed Kurt standing in the doorway, watching them.  
  
"Hey," Blaine said quietly, waving Kurt over. Eva, thumb stuck in her mouth, waved Kurt over as well with a tired smile.  
  
"How's it going you two?" Kurt asked, looking from Eva to Blaine, and back to Eva.  
  
"Good," Eva said, her reply muffled by the digit lodged between her teeth. "Sit us. Blaine Sandman book, all the time, everyday, all morning."  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine and smiled, chuckling.  
  
"Uh oh," Kurt said. "It sounds like you may have read that book a couple of times already."  
  
"Yup," Blaine said, but he didn't look upset. "We read a couple of the others..." Blaine looked down at the pile by his knee, "but we found this one and we've read it about ten times so far." Blaine scrunched his nose at Eva who responded, rubbing her nose against his, as if they had been greeting each other this way for her entire life.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt whispered, a little over come with emotion, "the rooms...they're beautiful. The pictures..."  
  
Blaine ducked his head. Eva patted Blaine's hair, giggling.  
  
"The pictures didn't upset you, did they?" Blaine's hazel eyes looked up at Kurt through thick lashes. Kurt knew he must have heard him crying.  
  
"No," Kurt said. "They didn't. I just...I haven't..." Kurt took a deep breath. "I haven't seen those in years. I think I put them away because every time I saw them...it just reminded me that they weren't coming back."  
  
Blaine put an arm out and squeezed Kurt's shoulder, but it was Eva who held out her arms, grabbing the air with her hands the way a toddler might, begging to be held. Kurt lifted the lanky girl and relocated her to his lap. She put her arms around his neck. Kurt touched her lightly. Eva might be clingy with Blaine, but in general she wasn't the cuddly type, so Kurt just let her hold him.  
  
"It okay," she said, patting Kurt's head with her flat, opened hand. Kurt nodded, sniffling quietly, not wanting to startle her with a full on outburst.  
  
The next thing out of Eva's mouth almost did Kurt in.  
  
"Kurt...all the time, everyday, all morning...I love you."  
  



	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sex.

The movers took longer than necessary packing up the truck. Several times they tried to convince Dave to take the sofa and the beds. By the time he sat in the driver's seat of the Honda, he was physically and emotionally done with the little trailer. He just wanted to put it behind him and be back in L.A., focusing on his small family and their new house.  
  
New house. He had so many different feelings about. He was happy that Blaine was willing to help them. He was annoyed that he couldn't figure out a way to make that help unnecessary. Dave blew out a long sigh.  
  
 _'It doesn't matter,'_ he tried to tell himself. _'As long as Kurt and the kids were safe and comfortable, that's all that really mattered.'_  
  
A real home, not a trailer. Real beds to sleep in, not second hand mattresses from the thrift store. A place that probably got warm in the winter and cool in the summer, not like their old metal box.  
  
Dave had walked through the trailer several times to make sure nothing important got left behind. Finally, he was here, in the car. Why wasn't he leaving?  
  
Because, this was his home. He bought it. Now he was leaving it to go live in a house that was essentially a gift to his family from another, more successful man.  
  
He heard his iPhone buzz. He looked at a text message from Kurt. It was a picture of him and the kids sitting on a navy blue wrap around sofa, in the living room of a house he had yet to see. They were all waving at the camera and smiling. He could see Eva, eyes focused past the lens with her arms outstretched. Blaine must have taken the picture. The text read, "See you soon! 333".  
  
Dave sighed. How was he going to let pride get in his way when that was waiting for him?  
  
Dave finally arrived in the early evening - tired, hungry, and uncomfortable. He had the directions Blaine and Kurt had given him, but the house was so much more than he expected, he had circled the block about three times just to make sure he was in the right place. When he was preparing to make a fourth circuit, Kurt stepped out through the front door and waved at him.  
  
Yup, this was definitely the place.  
  
Kurt gave Dave a hug when he walked up to the door.  
  
"You're here!" Kurt smiled. "We were getting worried."  
  
Dave was awe struck when he walked through the door. The house was much bigger than he had imagined, or was that perception, he wondered, from living so long in a trailer that was so tiny in comparison to just about anything. The walls, for the most part, were white and bare, except for some framed pictures he had helped Blaine put together. They were mostly all photographs of Kurt and Dave with the kids over the last two years, and one picture from Rachel and Finn's wedding.  
  
Dave knew he would see it, but looking at it with his own two eyes gave him a lump in his throat. It was good to have photos of Finn and Rachel around. He had always wanted that for the kids. But Kurt wasn't ready. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Dave had lost a best friend, but Kurt had lost a best friend and a brother.  
  
Finn and Barbra mobbed Dave at the front door, talking over each other in their excitement to show him their rooms. Elphaba toddled around in the living room - something she hadn't really been able to do in the cramped and cluttered trailer. Eva, sitting on the sofa, playing with what looked like a baby blue tablet of some sort, looked up and waved.  
  
"Dave! Dave!" She grabbed the air with one fist as she said it, her brown eyes shining.  
  
Dave looked at Kurt, his own eyes wide and unbelieving. Kurt bit his lip and smiled, nodding.  
  
In the whole time they had known Eva, she had never called them by name.  
  
It was all the way he had dreamed. A beautiful house, Kurt waiting for him by the door, all four kids happy and excited and content.  
  
Only this time his daydream had one unexpected element.  
  
Seated on the sofa beside Eva was Blaine Anderson.  
  
Dave could be upset. He could be stubborn. He could hold a grudge and be distant.  
  
But he wouldn't. Because the looks on his family's faces at this moment were worth enduring a thousand Blaine Andersons.  
  
What was he really enduring anyway? Dave really thought he and Blaine had the potential to become good friends.  
  
Even though he felt tired and disgusting, he let the kids lead him into their rooms so he could look over the murals and the pictures, and all of the beautiful new furniture. Dave became overwhelmed, especially when he went into Eva's room, which was an unbelievable masterpiece made just for the special girl.  
  
He walked over to the window, which had a built in shade between the panes of glass, closed now that it was dark outside. It was such a relief to not have to worry about curtains or blinds with chords that hung down. Eva was not only a notorious climber, but she was also notorious for wrapping things around her neck. The overhead lighting was soft, and the whole room exuded quiet and calm.  
  
It was a perfect little world built just for Eva. He stood still in the middle, and couldn't hear a thing - not the family in the living room, not the noises from outside.  
  
He didn't hear Kurt come into the room behind him.  
  
"She told me she loved me today," Kurt said quietly. Dave turned to look at the man, his face lighting up in awe. Dave couldn't speak. "She said my name, and she told me she loved me."  
  
Dave looked around the room with a sweep of his eyes, and then looked back at Kurt.  
  
"He did this," Dave whispered.  
  
Kurt walked up to Dave, resting his head against Dave's shoulder.  
  
"Dave, you tried," Kurt consoled. "We _both_ did. We just couldn't do it. Four kids, two of them disabled. That's a lot to handle."  
  
Dave sighed.  
  
"Look," Kurt caught Dave's gaze and held it, "I already told him we're paying him back. No matter how long it takes." Dave didn't look convinced.  
  
"You know, I hear sports agents make quite a bit of money," Kurt teased, pinching Dave in the side. Dave smiled, shaking his head.  
  
"Alright," Dave said. "I gotcha. Let me go take a shower and join the land of the living."  


* * *

  
Blaine squirreled Eva into her room when the moving truck arrived, so that the noise and the strange men wouldn't bother her. The movers managed to unload the truck much quicker than they packed it. Even though they hadn't done anything wrong, Kurt was happy to see them go, since they reminded him too much of his old life.  
  
Kurt made them all dinner, serving the family for the first time in an honest to God dining room. The kids spent the remainder of the evening unpacking boxes quietly in their rooms, before showering and going to bed, almost without Kurt or Dave having to tell them. To their great surprise, Elphaba curled up in her bed, hugging her favorite stuffed lamb, and fell quickly to sleep.  
  
Kurt and Dave sat on the sofa, listening to the quiet around them, tired smiles on their faces. Blaine stood at a distance, watching them. He didn't want to disturb them, but Kurt turned when he sensed eyes on him.  
  
"Uh," Blaine walked over to them, holding white objects with lights that looked like stereo speakers. Kurt noticed one had a label on it that said 'Elphaba', and one had a label that read 'Eva'. "Hunter left these. They're monitors for Eva and Elphie's room."  
  
Kurt and Dave shot amused smiles at each other.  
  
"Elphie?" Kurt asked. Blaine blushed.  
  
"Yeah," he said slowly, "I'm sorry. I just thought it sounded cute."  
  
Kurt nodded, looking at Dave for approval.  
  
"It does," Kurt admitted.  
  
"Uh," Blaine chuckled, looking at the foreign devices in his hands, "who wants which one?"  
  
Kurt stood and took the two monitors.  
  
"You get _Elphie_ ," Kurt said with emphasis, handing the monitor with Elphaba's name on it to Dave. "And we'll take Eva."  
  
"We?" Blaine whispered, looking at Kurt.  
  
Kurt raised his eyebrows and smiled.  
  
"Do you think I'm letting you go home now, after everything you've done today?" Kurt whispered. "I think I need to thank you properly."

* * *

  
Blaine sighed as he looked up at the tiny crystal chandelier, throwing reflections of light from outside around the orchid colored walls. He felt Kurt, sliding around beneath the sheet on the bed, fix the cock ring over him, followed by his hot, tight mouth. Kurt had said he wanted to spend at least the next half hour tasting Blaine, and really, who was Blaine to object?  
  
Blaine let his mind wander over the events of the last few days as he felt Kurt take him in his mouth, slowly moving up and down. A couple of weeks ago Blaine thought he might lose Kurt forever. Now, here he was, lying in Kurt's bed, surrounded by people he might some day be lucky enough to call his family. Here in this house, filled to the brim with kids...and Dave...Blaine was at peace, and happier than he had ever been. Here he felt at home.  
  
He felt Kurt crawl back up his body, emerging from under the sheet with a gasp of air, as if from under water.  
  
"You're awfully quiet and still," Kurt whispered. "I hope I'm not boring you."  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
"Not at all," Blaine reassured him. "Your mouth on me, as always, is a gift."  
  
Kurt blushed, then a slightly worried expression crossed his features.  
  
"Are you not comfortable spending the night here?" Kurt asked. "I didn't even think..."  
  
"No, no," Blaine said, raising a hand to run fingers along the back of Kurt's neck, and then pull him in for a delicate, sweet kiss. "Actually, I was thinking how happy I am right now."  
  
Kurt smiled again, wider this time, and with that beautiful rosy tinge to his cheeks that Blaine could see, even in the dark.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes." Blaine returned Kurt's smile, continuing to run his fingers further into Kurt's hair, massaging his scalp with his fingertips. Blaine slid his fingers down Kurt's face, tracing the outline of Kurt's lips.  
  
"Could you, maybe, make love to me?" Blaine asked, kissing Kurt's forehead. "Like we did on the floor the other night, but with you behind me?"  
  
"You mean," Kurt moved up against Blaine, carefully removing the cock ring as he spoke, "slow and soft?  
  
Blaine closed his eyes and nodded as Kurt produced the bottle of lube from beneath his pillow.  
  
"I think that could be arranged." Kurt spread lube liberally over his own erection, which had gotten harder the more Blaine talked about making love. Blaine gave Kurt another gentle kiss on the lips before rolling away.  
  
"Do you mind if I stretch you over me?" Kurt asked quietly, and Blaine nodded, ready to feel Kurt's body pressed fully against him. Blaine could feel Kurt's cock pushing against his entrance. Blaine loved this, loved having Kurt inside him, but his body wasn't quite as familiar with this part of the process yet. Blaine focused on relaxing.  
  
"It's okay, sweetheart," Kurt cooed, pushing in slower than he ever thought possible. "Just relax." Kurt rolled Blaine's shoulder muscles between his hands, kneading gently to calm and soothe him. Kurt took shallow, tentative thrusts, trying to ease Blaine wider just a little each time. Kurt heard Blaine's whimpers turn into moans.  
  
"That's it, baby," Kurt whispered, kissing Blaine's shoulders, running his fingers over the defined muscles of Blaine's arms.  
  
Kurt took Blaine with long, smooth, steady strokes, filling Blaine completely before pulling out slowly and then pushing back in again. Over and over he found that special spot inside Blaine that made him melt against Kurt. Blaine was eager in some ways to be pounded into the mattress, and in others to hold on after each brush and make this moment last as long as it could.  
  
"Mmm, I can see why you like this so much," Blaine commented. "It is relaxing, going this slow, isn't it?"  
  
Kurt hummed in agreement, lacing his fingers with Blaine's, wrapping their arms together around Blaine's chest.  
  
Blaine smiled at the feeling of Kurt's strong arms around him, holding him, protecting him the way only Kurt seemed to be able to do.  
  
Blaine felt so at odds with his body. He trembled at the slight push-pull of Kurt moving in and out of him, feeling his cock twitch every time Kurt bottomed out. He was also extremely relaxed, and his body was starting to surrender to exhaustion. He hummed, content to just let Kurt use his body as long as he wanted, take what he wanted, give what he was willing.  
  
He felt Kurt's warm hands find his cock, stroking slowly in time with his thrusts, so gentle in their movements.  
  
"Oh, Kurt," Blaine murmured, his eyes fluttering shut. "Kurt, Kurt, my beautiful angel Kurt..."  
  
Kurt giggled, his lips pressed against Blaine's skin, as he sped up just a bit.  
  
"No, no, baby," Blaine complained. "Not too fast...not yet..."  
  
"Yes, but you may not be with me in a few more minutes," Kurt said smiling against Blaine's skin. "And I need you to come with me."  
  
Kurt snapped his hips gently, speeding up the movements on his hands, caressing Blaine over and over from base to head, moving only in one direction, never traveling back down. It felt like one long stroke, and Blaine didn't know when it was going to end. He began to fidget as the pleasure built inside him, not being able to decide whether he should hook a leg over Kurt's leg, or wrap his arms around Kurt's neck. Did his fingers want to claw the mattress, or dig themselves into Kurt's hips? A sweet tension mounted just at the base of his cock, and it cried desperately to be released, but since Kurt's hands wouldn't make the return trip down his shaft, it didn't happen.  
  
"Kuuurrrttt," Blaine whined gently.  
  
"Do you want to cum, sweetheart?" Kurt asked fondly, feeling Blaine's weak and tired attempts to buck back against Kurt's hips, get reverse friction for his cock.  
  
"Yes, baby," Blaine said, grinding his hips gently. "Please, let me cum."  
  
Kurt held Blaine tight against his chest, licking small circles into his neck. Kurt quickened his pace, pumping Blaine with firm strokes, up and down this time. Blaine's body had turned into a hot liquid in Kurt's embrace as he quivered, spilling over Kurt's hand, his hips bucking slightly, his muscles relaxing further, melting more against Kurt's body.  
  
Kurt came with Blaine as he had hoped, holding Blaine tightly in his arms, whispering 'I love you' along Blaine's shivering skin. Kurt felt Blaine's body still, his delicious trembling cease, and he heard him sigh.  
  
"I love you, too," Blaine said, snuggling into his pillow.  
  
Kurt couldn't help giggling again, watching the smile on Blaine's sated face as he sank into sleep. Kurt was ready to drift off to sleep himself, connected as he still was to Blaine.  
  
He hated to do it. With a wince and a silent curse, he wiped his hand with the edge of the sheet, before wrapping his arm back around Blaine.  
  
"It will be nice to be able to do that all of the time," Kurt commented, sure that Blaine was already asleep.  
  
Kurt lay his head on the pillow, closing his eyes.  
  
"Yeah," Blaine murmured. "Imagine how much we can do that after I ask you to marry me."  
  
Kurt's eyes snapped open. He sat up just a bit to look at Blaine's face, which had now settled completely to sleep.  
  
"What?" Kurt whispered harshly. "What was that?"  
  
Blaine was already asleep.  
  
 _'Oh, shit,'_ was the last thought Kurt had before his mind went blank and he stared at the wall of his room all night.

* * *

  
Blaine woke up bright and early the next morning, hearing the kids in the living room playing the Wii on the new flat screen with Dave. More specifically, though, Blaine woke up to the sound of a little voice saying, "Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, Blaine," repetitively, like a mantra, in a sing song voice punctuated by various babbles and other noises. Blaine smiled.  
  
This was what his life would be like now.  
  
Blaine stood up carefully so as not to wake Kurt. He put his feet on the floor and stretched, listening to various joints pop and snap. He tossed on his sleep clothes, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him with barely an audible click.  
  
Dave peeked over his shoulder and saw Blaine running a hand through his hair as he walked towards Eva's room. Dave raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Uh, she's awake," Blaine said in explanation, pointing to the door.  
  
"She must have just woken up," Dave said, standing and handing Elphaba to Finn. "I checked her a moment ago."  
  
"Should I...?"  
  
Dave looked thoughtful for a moment.  
  
"You'd better let me," Dave said. "If you go in there, she'll expect you every morning. If you're out here, it will be a little different. We like to keep her on a schedule so she knows what to expect."  
  
Blaine winked.  
  
"Gotcha," he said, and walked toward the couch where the other kids sat, bright smiles on their faces.  
  
Dave nodded as he passed Blaine.  
  
"This might take a moment," Dave said. "Why don't you take my place in the game?"  
  
Blaine nodded as he looked at the screen. It looked like some kind of Mario game with cars, but that's about all he knew. He wasn't really a video game person. No time like the present to learn, he guessed.  
  
Finn and Barbra smirked as they watched Blaine pick up the controller, and look it over with an odd expression on his face. Finn sat Elphaba on Barbra's lap and went over to the man.  
  
"This button's 'A'," he explained. "You're going to need to push it to take the game off pause because Dave is always player one."  
  
"Ah," Blaine said. Finn shook his head and fixed the remote in Blaine's hands properly, explaining how to go, stop, slow down, drive, and shoot turtle shells.  
  
Blaine un-paused the game, and the cars shot off...all except for his car, which turned completely around twice. Finn had to take the controller and help him.  
  
The kids started out laughing and joking, trash talking in a very G-rated sort of way. Blaine realized he was concentrating way too hard on the game when he hadn't even notice the kids go quiet.  
  
"So," Barbra said, chewing her lip nervously, "are you going to live here with us?"  
  
Blaine hadn't even thought about it. This was their home, really, not his, but it was too tempting to have Kurt so close and not spend every single night with him. He didn't want to take Kurt away from the family at night, either, because he knew Eva and the kids needed Kurt...but part of him hoped Eva needed him, too. Maybe Blaine could be important in some way...some how.  
  
"No, I don't live here," Blaine said carefully. "I just want to spend time with you guys, and Dave, and Kurt."  
  
Barbra chewed her lip some more as she considered his answer, nodding slowly.  
  
"Well, I like you," Finn said, one eye shut as he negotiated a turn, leaning far to his left and balancing on one leg. "And not just 'cuz of the house...even though it's pretty cool."  
  
Blaine smiled. He guessed that was as good an endorsement as any.  
  
"Thanks," Blaine said, quietly happy that his car was catching up to Finn's.  
  
"Yeah," Finn continued, turning to the right now, "that's why it'll be okay with me when you and Kurt get married."  
  
Blaine shook his head.  
  
"Thanks, Finn," Blaine said. "But I don't think that'll be happening for a while."  
  
Then Blaine remembered.  
  
 _'...after I ask you to marry me...'_  
  
Blaine's remote went flying through the air, landing beside him on the couch, just as Finn's car sped over the finish line.  
  
"Yes!" Finn screamed, pumping his arm in the air and jumping up and down. "I won." Finn did an obnoxious victory dance, wiggling his butt as he sang his own greatness.  
  
Blaine felt a little numb.  
  
He had every intention of asking Kurt to marry him someday.  
  
Mentioning it last night may not have been the brightest idea.  
  
"Hey, Mr. Blaine," Finn said, looking at Blaine's blank expression, "you're kind of bad a this. Your timing's way off."  
  
"Yeah," Blaine said with a humorless chuckle. "You've got that right, buddy."  
  
Dave came out of Eva's room, carrying the girl to where everyone was gathered on the couch. Eva's eyes widened when she saw Blaine, and bounced happily when she was set beside him on the couch.  
  
Blaine's eyes were fixed on the television screen. Dave regarded him bemused.  
  
"He always wins," Dave said. Blaine looked up at Dave.  
  
"What?" Blaine asked, finally realizing that he was being spoken to.  
  
Dave laughed a little, still looking confused.  
  
"The game," Dave said. "You're staring at the screen like you just lost a puppy."  
  
"Yeah," Blaine said nodding.  
  
 _'No. It's worse,' Blaine thought. 'I might have just lost Kurt.'_

* * *

  
Kurt finally fell asleep some time before dawn. He had stayed up all night, thinking about Blaine's confession. Kurt didn't know how he felt about it. He had always imagined getting married, and Blaine was panning out to be his Prince Charming. Was it really so bad that Blaine thought about marrying Kurt?  
  
Wasn't that where Kurt hoped this was all heading anyway?  
  
It was, but Kurt had one problem. He was wracking up debts with Blaine that he felt he would never be able to pay back. Money shouldn't matter, and he really didn't think it did to Blaine, but Kurt was afraid of it all becoming too much. Blaine might resent him, resent the money he had sunk into his family. Then what?  
  
That wouldn't just be heart breaking. It would be devastating.  
  
Kurt slept fitfully for a couple of hours before he felt he had slept enough, and tried to pull himself out of sleep. The sounds of the kids laughing and the lack of Blaine in his bed convinced Kurt that the last few days was just an elaborate dream, and he would wake up in their old bed in the dark trailer, and things would be just as hopeless as before...without the light of a possible marriage proposal in the future lighting the end of his tunnel.  
  
Kurt heard Nick's unmistakable high-pitched laugh and smiled, slowly opening his eyes.  
  
It wasn't a dream. They were in the beautiful new house.  
  
Then he heard Blaine.  
  
"Careful, Eva. Please. My eyes are my money makers."  
  
Kurt laughed.  
  
He knew for a fact that wasn't true.  
  
It was Blaine's ass.  
  
Kurt climbed out of bed slowly. He desperately wanted a shower, but he decided against it. He didn't imagine he smelled too much like sex. Besides, he wanted to see his kids. He wanted to see Blaine.  
  
Kurt threw on some gray yoga pants and a cream-colored over-sized sweater that hung off one shoulder. He ran a brush through his hair, spritzing it with just a touch of product to keep it from looking too shaggy. He followed it with a generous spray of his favorite scent, and even though he barely sized up to his own standards, he decided to make an appearance.  
  
Nick smiled when he saw Kurt.  
  
"Ah!" Nick said, waving Kurt over, "the angel's awake."  
  
Kurt blushed lightly.  
  
Finn and Dave were playing a round of Mario Kart with Jeff. Elphaba sat in her playpen, playing with her favorite toys. Nick, in the meantime, was putting make-up on Barbra. Sitting beside them was Blaine with Eva in his lap. She had what looked like a paint brush in her hands, peering intently at Blaine's face, his eyes closed.  
  
Eva wouldn't let them put make-up on her, so she was putting make-up on Blaine.  
  
Kurt wanted to laugh as he walked over until he got the full effect of Blaine in midnight black liquid eyeliner.  
  
The man was stunning.  
  
When he opened his eyes, his beautiful hazel eyes, he saw Kurt staring at him in awe.  
  
"How did she do?" Blaine asked softly.  
  
Eva turned to see Kurt.  
  
"Come Kurt," she called. "Make-up overs."  
  
Kurt smiled at them. Blaine's eyeliner was carefully applied, the lines almost perfect. Kurt had seen Eva paint and color many times, with almost disastrous results. Normally, she didn't have the patience for anything with a lot of fine detail, or things with complicated patterns. Sometimes, they made her downright upset.  
  
It took a brave man to allow this particular little girl to use a brush like that next to his eyes.  
  
The outcome was amazing.  
  
"Dave," Kurt said, unable to take his eyes off of Blaine, a beautiful flush rising to his cheeks as Kurt stared at him. "Have you seen this?"  
  
Dave looked over his shoulder with a smirk.  
  
"Yup," Dave said. "That's the third one she put on him. I personally liked the royal blue, but the silver...that one was a special look."  
  
So, Blaine had sat there patiently while this normally impatient little girl had put liquid liner on his eyes three times? Kurt fell in love all over again.  
  
Then he started imagining Blaine with silver eyeliner. Eva carefully picked up a pot of red lip gloss and a new brush, appraising Blaine's face the way a painter might approach a canvas. She dipped the brush in the gloss and delicately started applying it to Blaine's plump lips.  
  
The thoughts Kurt started to get at the sight of Blaine - rugged, rough, manly Blaine - in black eyeliner and red lip gloss, were starting to get inappropriate, and yoga pants were not at all conducive to hiding a raging hard-on. He tugged the hem of his sweater low, but Blaine's eyes swept over him just in time to see what Kurt was trying to cover. Blaine didn't dare move his lips, but his eyes smiled knowingly before fluttering shut, letting Eva continue with her work.  
  
"Nick," Kurt admonished gently, trying to concentrate on something else. "Do you think it's appropriate to put make up on a little girl?"  
  
Nick didn't look up at Kurt as he carefully dabbed color to Barbra's cheeks.  
  
"It's not like I'm taking them clubbing," Nick said. "We're just having a little fun."  
  
Kurt sighed.  
  
"I know," Kurt continued, picking up the tubes one by one and looking them over, "I just hope that you explained that this stuff just accentuates beauty, it doesn't add to a person's self-worth, and - _Oh my God!_ Are these the new MAC colors from Paris!?"  
  
Dave and Blaine both stifled a chuckle. Nick simply smiled as he held up some eyeshadow for Barbra's approval. The girl nodded with an air of quiet maturity.  
  
"Yup." Nick smiled. "Only a few studios got these early, and I was allowed to snag a few for myself."  
  
"A few, Nicky?" Jeff remarked. "You left them four."  
  
"Psh." Nick delicately colored Barbra's eyelids in a pale apricot color, accented with a sea foam green. "Like it matters. Mia only wears Clinique. Sebastian's allergic to anything but Lancome, and Deidre uses Bobbi Brown on Blaine. They don't put any of the good stuff on the extras, so I don't see why I shouldn't have."  
  
It had never really dawned on Kurt that Blaine wore make-up on the set. Logically it made sense, but the thought wasn't helping to quell his hard-on any.  
  
"Alright," Kurt said, finding a spot on the sofa between the two groups. He grabbed a mirror, some brushes and a couple of pots. "Let me show you how an aging dom does his makeup."  
  
"Aging?" Nick huffed. "I find it hard to believe you're a day over twenty."  
  
Kurt stared at his face in the mirror as he applied a thin line of purple to his eyes.  
  
"And that, Nick, is why I love you."

* * *

  
After Barbra's face was finished, and Kurt had done his own make-up, Kurt used Nick to teach Barbra how to apply her make-up in the future. It didn't work as well as Kurt had hoped, because where as Kurt chose mellow, complimentary colors, Barbra's favorite colors were pink and purple.  
  
Nick looked like a drag queen.  
  
It didn't take much convincing to get Nick and Jeff to stay for dinner. Barbra didn't want to wash her face until shower time, so Kurt decided to humor her and let her keep her make-up on. In turn, so did Kurt and Nick. Eva wouldn't let Blaine touch his face, so he was stuck with deep green eyeliner and pale pink lips.  
  
Dave smirked as he looked over his fork at the other guests talking animatedly at the table.  
  
"What?" Kurt asked as he caught Dave's eye.  
  
"Nothing," Dave said, clearing his throat. "I just feel like I'm having dinner at Warhol's house. That's all."  
  
After dinner, Nick and Jeff called it a night. Kurt hugged Nick at the door, thanking him for coming over to corrupt his little girls.  
  
"My pleasure," Nick said, batting pink dusted eyes in mock seduction at Kurt. "And incidentally..." Nick slipped what felt like two small pots into Kurt's palm. Kurt looked into his hand quickly and gasped. It was the black eyeliner and the red lip gloss. Kurt's face immediately burned red.  
  
"Next time I come over, I'll warn you." Nick winked. "Then you can wear different pants."  
  
Kurt couldn't decide between punching him in the arm or kissing him on the cheek.  
  
He kissed Nick, with another tight hug to boot.  
  
Blaine kept the make-up on until he had finished reading Eva to sleep. The minute her eyes fluttered shut, he raced to Kurt's bathroom and scrubbed his face clean. He heard Kurt behind him, making a disappointed noise, and smiled.  
  
"I'm just saving you from more embarrassment, baby," Blaine said. "We are watching a movie with Dave. I don't think you want to be sporting another boner all night, right?"  
  
Blaine got the punch in the arm.

* * *

  
Kurt fidgeted, reaching for a copy of _Vogue_ he had hidden under the couch.  
  
"Tell me why we're watching a James Bond movie again," Kurt snipped, opening the magazine and relaxing back into Blaine's outstretched arm.  
  
"Daniel Craig," both men replied in unison. They snapped their heads to look at each other.  
  
Dave motioned with his hand, indicating Blaine should explain first.  
  
"Well, he manages to play the sexiest icon in movie history, and marry Rachel Weisz? The man has to be doing something right."  
  
Dave glared at Blaine on Kurt's behalf as Kurt disengaged himself from Blaine's grasp and scooted to the center of the sofa. Blaine reached to grab him back, but Kurt was too quick, sliding to the center of the couch without looking up from his magazine.  
  
"What, baby?" Blaine whined. "I am bi, you know. I do get to at least appreciate the female form."  
  
Kurt just hummed in response, flipping through the pages of his magazine.  
  
Blaine sighed.  
  
"What about you, Dave?" Blaine asked, settling back into the couch.  
  
Dave blushed furiously in response.  
  
"Dave likes accents," Kurt answered for him. "Especially British accents."  
  
Blaine looked up at Dave, his head ducked, fighting a smile.  
  
"Is that true?" Blaine asked.  
  
"I like _tall_ guys with accents," Dave corrected. "So me a Daniel would never work out."  
  
Blaine huffed a laugh, happy that Dave was joking around with him, comfortable with him.  
  
He glanced at Kurt, still sitting in the center of the couch, reading through his magazine.  
  
Now, he just had to win back his boyfriend.

* * *

  
Kurt never went back to sit beside Blaine. Blaine talked with Dave and enjoyed the movie, but every so often he would glance at Kurt and notice him reading a magazine, or just looking at the t.v., not really watching what was going on.  
  
A few minutes before the end of the movie, Kurt got up and went to his room. As the credits rolled, Blaine heard the shower turn on. He looked to Dave, who looked back.  
  
"Well..." Dave stood and stretched. "I think I'm going to head to bed."  
  
Dave motioned to Kurt's closed door with his chin.  
  
"Don't keep him waiting."  
  
Dave walked off to his room. Blaine watched him go, until the door shut behind him.  
  
Blaine swallowed. He stood and made his way slowly to Kurt's room. Blaine could hear the water running, but he couldn't hear Kurt singing.  
  
Ever since the competition, he always sang in the shower.  
  
Blaine tried the door knob and sighed in relief to find it unlocked. He step inside.  
  
"Kurt?" Blaine spoke to the shower curtain. "Kurt, can I join you?"  
  
Blaine heard Kurt sigh.  
  
"If you want to," came a quiet reply.  
  
Blaine shed his clothes quickly, pulling back the curtain and stepping inside.  
  
Kurt was standing under the spray, his arms wrapped protectively around himself, his head leaning against the shower tile, eyes shut.  
  
Blaine stepped in behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Kurt was rigid, unyielding.  
  
"I'm sorry for what I said, Kurt," Blaine whispered, kissing along Kurt's back. "You know I'm bi. I never kept that from you."  
  
"Is that all you're apologizing for?" Kurt asked, his voice cold.  
  
Blaine had forgotten what he had said earlier, about asking Kurt to marry him. He didn't think Kurt would get this angry about it, though.  
  
"I'm not going to apologize for saying I was going to ask you to marry me someday," Blaine said, holding Kurt's stiff form tighter. "I meant it. I want to. I want you. I love you."  
  
Kurt sighed.  
  
"I'm not mad about that."  
  
Blaine sighed in relief.  
  
"It's just...I...I can't compete with a woman, Blaine," Kurt admitted quietly. "I know I play at it a lot, but in the end, if you fall in love with some woman, what can I do? There are going to be things she's going to have that I won't."  
  
"You mean, like a bitchy attitude and a menstrual cycle?" Blaine joked. Kurt swung an elbow back, hitting Blaine in the chest.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt complained, but he couldn't help smiling.  
  
"Kurt, you don't need to compete...with anyone," Blaine said. "I love you. Just you."  
  
Kurt turned in Blaine's embrace.  
  
"Just me?" Kurt whispered. Blaine saw Kurt's eyes, slightly red from crying. He never realized this was such a big issue with him.  
  
"Just you." Blaine's voice was firm, final. Blaine bit his lip, pushing Kurt up against the tile. Kurt yelped as the cold hit his back. He watched Blaine intently as he fell to his knees. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's hips, searching with delicate fingers for Kurt's hole. Blaine teased the tip of Kurt's cock with his lips and gentle swipes of his tongue.  
  
"Why don't I show you how much?" Blaine said, raising his eyebrows and taking Kurt into his mouth.  
  



	36. Chapter 36

Kurt woke in the morning to the sound of Blaine talking on his cell phone in a hushed whisper. Kurt could only make out Blaine's side of the conversation, and what he said made no sense to Kurt whatsoever.

"So were you able to...yeah, yeah...today...no, definitely...I'll tell him today...thanks so much...you're right, you did owe me. Thanks again. Good bye."

Kurt didn't even try to hide the fact that he was listening in when Blaine turned around to climb back under the covers. Kurt figured that the look on Blaine's face when he saw him eavesdropping would answer the questions he had. Blaine saw Kurt's raised eyebrow and smiled a cool, calculating, sexy smile.

"Do I get to find out what that was all about?" Kurt asked.

Blaine wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes," Blaine said, sliding under the covers and climbing over Kurt's body. "Later."

* * *

Kurt and Blaine thought it would be a good idea to take the kids and explore the neighborhood. Kurt packed a picnic lunch. Dave grabbed a bag and filled it with balls and Frisbees. Dave and Kurt drove the kids in the van while Blaine led the way in the Honda. First, Blaine showed the family how to get to his house from their house. He drove them passed the school that Kurt would be enrolling the older kids in. He drove by the supermarket Kurt liked so Dave would know where it was. He showed them all the landmarks he could think of before stopping at an immense park. To Kurt, it looked more like a tiny forest. Trees grew everywhere, wide open patches of grass stretched out in between, and in the center, a duck pond filled with water foul.

Eva saw the pond as Dave lowered her into her wheelchair. Pointing and waving her arms she screamed, "Birds! Birds! Birds!"

She wanted to get up desperately and chase them. She flapped her arms for a bit to see if she could fly. She pointed to them, and then to herself, and then to Dave and Blaine when they didn't respond right away.

The men looked at each other.

"Do you play football, Anderson?" Dave asked.

Blaine scrunched his nose.

"Not really," Blaine said.

"Then you guys chase the birds." Dave patted Blaine on the shoulder. "Finn and I are going to throw the ball around."

Blaine kissed Kurt quickly on the cheek. He grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and took off with it, heading carefully but quickly over the mostly flat grass toward the pond. Dave rolled his eyes fondly as he grabbed a football out of the bag and tossed it to Finn, who ran in the opposite direction away from the cluster of trees. Kurt looked at Elphaba in her stroller, snoozing peacefully in the cool spring air. Barbra, not willing to wait for Kurt to spread out the blanket he had brought, sat on a tree root and started reading the latest volume of _Captain Underpants_. Kurt cringed. He hated those books, but at least she was reading.

Kurt laid out the blanket and started assembling plates of food, looking up every so often when he heard a child yell, or an adult laugh. In this area of the park, at least, they were the only ones around. Kurt watched Dave throw Finn an impressive pass, which Finn leapt up and caught like a pro. Blaine and Eva sat by the water, watching the birds take off and land. Blaine was pointing out a family of ducklings, naming each little yellow puffy bird after Finn and the girls. Eva giggled as her namesake duckling veered away from the group and swam headlong into a patch of cattails.

Kurt turned his face to the sunlight, closed his eyes, and breathed in deep as the cool breeze blew. He never really believed in a God. Sure, he called on him more times that he could count, but most of the time it was a heat of the moment thing, and for lack of anything more appropriate to say. But if there was a heaven, a grand and beautiful place where every one went after they died, he wondered if Finn and Rachel were there now, watching their kids. More importantly, he wondered what they might be thinking.

"Everything looks amazing," Blaine said appreciatively, as he kissed Kurt's cheek. Kurt opened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend, backlit by the sun through the trees. Beside him, Eva rambled happily about ducks and ponds and ducklings.

"Kurt! Me and Blaine run. We chase birds. In the water. Yellow bird name Finn, and Barbra, and Elphie, and Eva..."

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at Blaine when Eva said 'Elphie' instead of 'Elphaba'.

"Now I hungry. I want cereal and milk."

Kurt smiled. He had never heard Eva speak so clearly before. She had just told Kurt a whole story, and he had understood most of it.

Dave and Finn came back when they saw Kurt serving food. They all sat together on the blanket and ate in companionable silence. They breathed in deep, and enjoyed the sunlight and the cool air. Elphaba woke up and Kurt fed her. Then Dave took her out of the stroller to stretch her little legs. Kurt watched them go, walking in the direction of the duck pond. Dave had taken a few slices of bread and helped Elphaba break off pieces and toss them into the water. She giggled like mad as the ducks gathered around to eat. Eva noticed the commotion of the birds and tapped Blaine on the shoulder, pointing to where Dave tossed more bread to the ducks.

"I gotcha," Blaine said, standing. He took the breaks off the wheelchair and headed back toward the pond. "Your wish is my command, princess," he teased.

"Dave!" Eva shouted as they headed toward to pond. "I a princess! I Princess Eva!"

_'Oh no!'_ Kurt thought as he heard Eva shout happily.

"Birds! I a princess! I Princess Eva!"

* * *

The day passed by quickly, and before Kurt knew, it was time to pack up and head home. This time, Kurt accompanied Blaine in the Honda and Dave took all the kids in the van.

"So, uh," Blaine stuttered as they pulled up to the house, "where should I...uh..."

Kurt smiled.

"We should really figure out some sort of a schedule," Kurt said, "but, do you think you could stay with me tonight?"

Blaine smiled.

"I think I can do that," Blaine said. "Let's stop by my place so I can pick up some stuff."

* * *

The kids could barely stay awake through dinner. Blaine couldn't help but snicker as Finn actually dropped his head in his mashed potatoes at one point.

"Okay, Junior," Dave said with a smirk. "Time to shower and get to bed."

One by one, the children were bathed and tucked into bed.

"Well, I guess that's it for me, too." Dave yawned, looking from Blaine to Kurt. "I have to get up early and start looking at colleges and stuff."

"Um, actually," Blaine started nervously, "I have something for you."

Blaine took a business card from his back pocket and handed it to Dave, who looked at Blaine with a raised eyebrow.

"That's my agent's business card," Blaine explained. Thad. He's an alum at CSULB."

Dave looked at Kurt with wide eyes.

"They have an amazing sport's management program," Blaine continued. "They also have an internship program that will allow you to work with a client while you're still learning. It's so popular that it has a pretty long waiting list."

Dave looked confused.

"Then why are you telling me?" Dave asked. "I'm sure it's too late..."

"Well, no, it's not really." Blaine looked so excited as he spoke that Dave quieted instantly. "They save a few spaces exclusively for legacies. Technically, you're not a legacy, but Thad owes me about...oh...nine thousand favors. He gives the school a lot of money, so I'm pretty sure you can get a spot."

Kurt knew this meant that Dave already had a spot waiting for him. Suddenly, the phone call from earlier that morning made sense. He bit his lip with a suppressed smile and looked down at his feet.

"But, Long Beach..."

"Is only half an hour away," Blaine finished, trying to anticipate all of Dave's objections. "I know you have quite a bit of school already under your belt. All you need to do is finish. Now, without the internship program, you're looking at another four years. With it, barely two years. So, give Thad a call, and he'll help you apply, get your transcripts, anything else you need."

Dave looked shocked. He held the card delicately in his fingers, reading the embossed lettering over and over until he had the name, address, and phone numbers memorized.

He shook his head.

"Thank you, really, so much, but I..."

"Dave," Blaine put a hand on his shoulder and looked in his eyes. "Do you remember what you said to me, in the mezzanine at the theater?"

Dave did remember. He remembered asking Blaine not to fail Kurt.

"Well, I promise that to the best of my abilities, I will be the best man I can be. That I'll be worthy of Kurt, and your family." Blaine squeezed Dave's shoulder firmly. "But you have to do the same."

Dave nodded.

"I guess it doesn't hurt to accept a little help," Dave agreed. He smiled at Blaine, holding up the card and putting it in his pocket. "Thank you. I'll call him first thing in the morning. I promise."

Blaine extended a hand and Dave took it, pulling him in for a hug. Stunned, it took a moment for Blaine to hug the man back.

Dave hugged Kurt tightly, and headed to his room.

Kurt leaned up against the wall in the hallway, looking at Blaine with a sideways glace. Blaine looked down at his feet and bit his lip.

"So," Blaine said, pushing off the wall and looking at Kurt.

"So," Kurt repeated, taking Blaine's hands.

"Am I going to get it?" Blaine smiled slyly, looking up at Kurt through a fan of dark lashes.

"Oh, you're going to get it, sweetheart." Kurt dragged Blaine into his room.

* * *

Kurt shut and locked the door to his room, dimming the light to the overhead chandelier and casting a romantic glow over the room. Blaine grabbed Kurt, drew him into the circle of his arms, and kissed him insistently. Kurt smiled into it, loving how demanding Blaine could be, but Kurt had a plan for Blaine's lips, and he was way too eager to get started.

Kurt pushed Blaine away gently with a hand to his chest. Blaine looked at Kurt, confused, kiss swollen lips slightly pursed as he awaited either an explanation...or maybe even a command.

"I have an idea." Kurt gazed into Blaine's eyes, a devilish twinkle in the deep blue depths. The ends of Blaine's mouth curled up slightly. He loved Kurt's ideas.

Kurt reached into his pocket. He drew out the tension as he watched Blaine's eyes glued to the movement of his hands. He pulled out his closed fist and raised it to Blaine's eyes. He uncurled his long, pale fingers to reveal the two small pots of make-up Nick had left him.

Blaine raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Please, don't tell me you're getting role play ideas from watching me play with Eva," Blaine teased.

Kurt winced mockingly, and then closed his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed.

"Now, you see, comments like that are going to get your speaking privileges taken away."

Blaine bit his lip, wondering exactly what method Kurt would use to go about keeping him quiet. Three immediately sprang to mind, and Blaine's cock twitched.

"Actually," Kurt said, leading Blaine by the hand over to his vanity, "Nick gave me these. Apparently, my lack of self-control has became shamefully noticeable as of late...especially where you're concerned."

Kurt sat Blaine down on the small chair, facing away from the circular mirror. Kurt opened a drawer and pulled out some sponges, some brushes, and a few odd tubes. Kurt laid these all out along with the two pots in his hands.

Looking into his honey colored eyes, he slowly pulled off Blaine's shirt and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

Kurt leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"We're going to play a little dress up...and _you_ get to be my doll."

* * *

Blaine had to endure make-up numerous times in the past. In fact, he couldn't even count the amount of times someone had covered his skin with foundation, put light mascara on his lashes, tones and highlights to accentuate his features, or cover up to make him look younger. Not just on his face. Sometimes, if a scene required him to remove his shirt, he would have to wear body make-up as well.

The daily routine of having Deidre put on his make-up was a lot different than what Kurt was doing now.

Having Kurt lean over him, move his face from left to right, scrutinizing every detail as he gently applied foundation, then eyeliner, then lip gloss, turned the whole process into something sinful and erotic.

At the studio, the make-up artists jabbered away as they worked on the actors. They talked and talked, and the banter was non-stop. The bright lights in the make-up trailer were harsh and jarring, sometimes making an obnoxious popping or buzzing noise as they always seemed to be on the brink of burning out.

The atmosphere in Kurt's room soothed Blaine - the deep orchid walls, the beautiful pale carpet, the alluring scent of vanilla, ever present - probably because everything about it made him think of Kurt. Blaine soaked in Kurt's delicate touches as he carefully applied his make-up, his soft gaze as it swept over Blaine's skin, the way Kurt hummed as he worked - a gorgeous man lavishing attention on him, turning Blaine into a work of art.

Blaine held his breath when Kurt painted his lips. Kurt smiled.

"You need to breathe, sweetheart, or this is going to be over too quickly."

Blaine let out a slow, steady breath, barely slipping between his lips as Kurt worked.

His face was done. Burning with curiosity, Blaine tried to turn toward the mirror, but Kurt grabbed him by the knees and spun him away before he could take a look. Kurt grabbed a bottle off the vanity and squeezed something into his palm. Blaine closed his eyes at the feeling of Kurt moving his fingers through his hair, using some product to tame his curls, add weight to them and make them a little straighter.

"Now," Kurt said seductively, "I get to dress you."

Kurt stood Blaine up. He took Blaine's pants and boxer briefs off together slowly, pulling them sensually down his legs, touching every inch of his skin as he traveled. Blaine watched Kurt with hooded, hungry eyes, silently begging for Kurt's mouth on him, anywhere. He didn't know why being dressed up was having such an effect on him, but all of his nerves were suddenly on high alert, tingling with every touch of Kurt's fingers as they lazily brushed against his skin.

Kurt went to his closet, quickly finding what he was looking for amongst the row of clothes. Kurt held out a pair of black pleather pants, a lot like the leather pants he wore when he tried his hand at dominating Kurt, but these were tighter, more form fitting. They slid up Blaine's legs and hugged every curve, every muscle. Blaine watched the pants clinging to his skin and couldn't help the hard-on he was getting. Kurt pulled the pants up around Blaine's hip bone, buttoning them, and doing the zipper. Then he ran his hands over them, over Blaine's hips and over Blaine's ass, around the front to where his cock strained against the fabric.

Kurt smirked.

"Nice," he said, obviously appreciating the view.

Kurt then grabbed another hanger. This one held a red tank top in what Blaine could only tell was made of some sort of bright red material that was so shiny, it looked almost like liquid. Kurt held it out in front of him, slipping his arms through the holes, and moving around behind him to pull it tight in the back. Only then did Blaine realize it tied up in the back like a corset.

Blaine had never worn a shirt even remotely like it. The smooth fabric clinging to his skin, showing every defined muscle, accentuating every detail of his toned abs, turned him on even more.

Kurt pulled one last item from the closet - a strange red jacket of sorts made out of some sort of shaggy faux fur. It looked outlandish and over the top, but Blaine loved it. It struck Blaine suddenly that Kurt had probably designed and made these clothes, possibly for work, and he wanted to moan at the thought of Kurt wearing them, the image of these pants on Kurt's legs, looking nearly painted on, and this beautiful shirt with the tie up back clinging to Kurt's dancer's torso.

Blaine started to feel anxious. He wanted to say something, make a joke, get Kurt giggling, but the sexual tension in the air could not be broken. Blaine didn't want it broken.

Kurt slipped the jacket over Blaine's arms, maneuvering the fabric over his muscular arms. Blaine expected the inside of the jacket to be scratchy for some reason, but it was smooth and silky due to a luxurious satin lining. Kurt's attention to details. Blaine was sure of it. Blaine shivered as it touched his skin, smooth and cool, brushing over his heated flesh and causing goosebumps to form.

Kurt stepped back to take in the full affect. Blaine didn't know what to expect from the expression on Kurt's face. Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, shining like sapphire ice as they slowly roamed over Blaine's body, from his hair, down over his face, that clingy shirt, those sinful pleather pants with his aching hard on on full display, till it reached his feet, and then started to travel back up again.

Blaine stood still, but beneath his skin he was fidgeting, eager, anxious, waiting. He used to consider himself a patient man, but never in the past did he had anything as fabulous as Kurt Hummel to wait for.

"I'm going to take your picture," Kurt said finally. Kurt took Blaine by the shoulders and backed him up, maneuvering him around, standing him up against walls and then stepping back to see how he looked. Finally, Kurt walked Blaine over to the window. He stood back to take in the image of Blaine in this extraordinary red outfit against the sheer white curtains. Kurt smiled.

"Perfect."

Blaine expected Kurt to take out his iPhone and snap a picture. Instead, Kurt went to his closet and pulled out a professional looking camera case. He laid it on the floor and opened it. Blaine's eyes went wide. Here was another facet of his beautiful black swan that he never knew existed. Blaine watched as Kurt assembled an expensive looking digital SLR, but the bag, about the size of a suitcase, held multiple cameras, lenses, and a mini tripod.

Kurt giggled when he looked through the view finder and noticed Blaine's expression.

"Uh...it's a guilty pleasure," Kurt explained, focusing the lens of the camera and snapping the first shot. "I started getting students at local colleges to model my clothes."

Another shot.

"I think it worked better for their portfolios than for mine."

Another shot.

"I'd love to see it sometime," Blaine whispered, watching as Kurt peered intently at him over the camera.

"Some other time," Kurt replied.

Kurt approached Blaine, looking at him thoughtfully. He took Blaine's arm, posing him carefully, moving his head, tilting it sideways, before retreating behind the camera again to take the shot. Blaine felt his heart thrumming in his chest, felt his cock twitching.

After another shot, Kurt returned, reposing Blaine, tilting his head in the opposite direction and down, so that the heavy lids of Blaine's eyes closed half-way, shrouding his now molten gold irises.

Kurt took another shot.

When Kurt approached again, camera in hand, Blaine asked, "Do I get to see what I look like?"

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. Blaine panted slightly, lips parted, his voice low and unintentionally sultry.

Kurt hadn't realized that Blaine was getting as turned on as Kurt was.

Kurt pressed a few buttons on the back of his camera and then turned the view screen toward Blaine. Blaine saw himself, not the way he looked in his reflection in the mirror, not the way he looked on the show in his cardigan and tighter than necessary jeans, but the way he saw Kurt - a beautiful, exotic, formidable creature, comfortable in his skin, breaking boundaries of glamor, sexy as hell if he said so himself. He was an erotic creature with plump, red lips; skillfully lined eyes; light silver eye shadow; and a flawless complexion.

He looked almost like a doll.

Blaine gulped audibly.

Kurt's face fell a bit.

"You don't like it?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine almost couldn't talk around the lump in his throat.

"I love it," Blaine said quietly. "Take more."

Kurt bit his lip.

"I have plans of taking a lot of pictures tonight, Blaine," Kurt said. Kurt positioned Blaine's face again, and took another picture, this time a close up of Blaine's face. Blaine felt his face flush with color at the closeness of the shot and the intensity of Kurt's eyes on his.

Kurt put the camera carefully on the bed, and turned back to Blaine. Kurt put his hands beneath the jacket, wrapping them around Blaine's waist, untying the laces in the back. Kurt could feel Blaine's cock against his leg, felt Blaine move gently against Kurt as they stood close together.

"Believe me when I tell you, you don't want to cum in those pants." Kurt smiled when Blaine groaned, stilling his hips.

Kurt brought his hands up under the jacket to Blaine's shoulders, undoing a tie Blaine didn't realize was there. Kurt pulled on the shirt, watching it slide over Blaine's tan skin, watching Blaine tremble slightly as the shoulder ties dragged slowly over his nipples, hearing him moan low in the back of his throat.

Kurt lay the shirt over the vanity, returning to Blaine, now bare chested beneath his fur jacket. Kurt took in a sharp breath at the image of Blaine, who had lifted his arms to link his hands behind his neck, head turned slightly to the left, eyes hooded, ab muscles on display. Kurt's eyes drifted until they settled on his hard-on outlined by the pleather pants.

Had Blaine always been that huge? How did Kurt miss that?

Kurt started to salivate at the sight of Blaine's beauty so starkly on display.

"Stay just like that?" Kurt said, rushing to grab his camera. "Don't move a muscle."

Blaine held his breath as Kurt snapped off photo after photo of Blaine in that pose, pictures of his face, his chest, his profile, his abs. It seemed like Kurt wanted to capture every inch of him in that outfit.

Blaine's fingers, linked behind his neck, intertwined tighter as they itched to get at Kurt, to take him to the floor, to lick down his body and suck on his neck.

Kurt noticed the change - the tightening in Blaine's muscles, the way his jaw tensed, the twitch of his cock as it grew just slightly bigger.

Kurt felt an overwhelming need to taste Blaine, to feel him hot and heavy against his tongue, to see if he could grow just a little larger inside his mouth.

Once again, Kurt put his camera down. He took Blaine by the arms and moved him toward the bed, sitting him down and leaning him back. Blaine caught himself with his arms. Kurt spread Blaine's legs wide so that Blaine had to prop one leg up, bent, to keep his balance. Kurt looked Blaine over. Blaine panted as he looked up at Kurt.

Kurt stepped back, retrieved his camera, and snapped off a few more shots. Then he set about setting up his tripod. He fixed the camera to the top of the tripod. Blaine watched with interest as Kurt pressed some buttons in the back, and then attached a little device to the camera with a USB chord, setting it with a few more button pushes.

Kurt looked through the view finder, and made some adjustments, moving the camera back a few paces, pushing a few more buttons, and adjusting the aperture of the lens.

Kurt pressed a button and stepped out from behind the camera.

"What did you do?" Blaine asked as Kurt sidled up to him, gazing down at Blaine appreciatively, eyes already undressing him slowly, lingering on the bulge pressing against the pleather pants.

"I set the camera to auto focus, and hooked it up to an intervalometer. This way it will take a picture at programmed intervals without me having to press the shutter button."

Blaine swallowed hard. As if on cue, the camera flashed. Blaine looked passed Kurt at the camera, as if just noticing that it was there, and then the flash went off again.

"It's programmed to take two photos in a row." Kurt smirked. "So, I can get a picture and a reaction."

"What are we going to do now?" Blaine's voice shook just a bit, his body vibrating with heat for want of this man, anxious at the thought of doing something intimate on film.

"Well..." Kurt leaned forward, palming Blaine through the pleather pants. Blaine's head dropped back on his shoulder as his throbbing erection finally got some friction.

Another flash.

Blaine's head snapped up, his hair flying wildly as another flash went off.

"First," Kurt continued, seeming nonplussed by the bright lights going off behind them, "I'm going to suck you off..."

Kurt dropped slowly to his knees as he spoke, grabbing Blaine's legs and pulling him to the edge of the bed.

"And then..." Kurt pulled open the button to Blaine's pants. Blaine watched as Kurt opened the zipper slowly, licking his lips at the sight of Blaine's erection as if he were something to eat and Kurt was starving desperately. "I get to ride you."

Kurt flicked his eyes up to look into Blaine's once - cool, controlled blue ice melting under the heat of molten gold.

Kurt sank his mouth over Blaine's cock slowly - inch by torturous inch until he couldn't look up into Blaine's eyes any more. Kurt adjusted his position on the floor so he could take Blaine in. When Blaine's cock hit the back of Kurt's throat, Blaine threw his head back and moaned.

_Flash. Flash._

Kurt moved, sucking hard but slowly, knowing that Blaine's control was hanging by a thread. He tried his best not to tip Blaine over the edge - he didn't hum, or laugh, or breath too quickly. Just a steady motion up and down. Kurt knew what he was doing. He knew what Blaine looked like without even having to spare him a glance. Blaine's head rolled from shoulder to shoulder as he moaned. He had yet to move at all from the position Kurt had put him in. At one point, Kurt could feel him shift slightly, and knew Blaine was running his hand over his own body - up his abs, across his nipples, along the line of his neck, and maybe - if Kurt was lucky - sucking a finger into his own mouth.

Kurt couldn't wait to see those pictures.

Kurt could tell by the way Blaine's moans turned into breathy pants that there was not much more Kurt could do without Blaine cumming. Kurt stopped, pulling off with an almost obscene sound, and smiling when he heard Blaine groan in disappointment.

"I was so looking forward to cumming in your mouth," Blaine confessed.

Kurt moaned hearing those words. He stood and kissed Blaine, deep and dirty, grabbing his arms roughly.

_Flash. Flash._

Kurt straightened and slowly slipped off his shirt. Blaine no longer registered the flashing of the camera as Kurt undressed, tossing away his shirt, and then unbuttoning his jeans, slipping them down his legs as Blaine watched.

Of course, Kurt wasn't wearing any underwear.

Kurt let Blaine look at him, let him run his lust blown eyes over his pale body as he held his own aching cock, stroking it in his grip.

"No, no," Blaine tutted, reaching up to grab Kurt's hips in his hands and draw him closer.

The urge to take Kurt in his mouth was undeniable. Kurt had other ideas, as difficult as it might have been for him to move his cock away from Blaine's beautiful, eager mouth.

Kurt wanted to ride Blaine, and Kurt always got his way.

Kurt held something up in front of Blaine's face. It was a golden ampule of fluid, about the length of Kurt's palm and the width of his index finger.

"This," Kurt said, slowly twisting the narrow end until Blaine heard it snap, "is new."

Kurt squeezed most of the contents of the capsule into his hand. Blaine saw a thick, translucent, gold colored liquid come out. Kurt placed the rest gently by his knee. He took hold of Blaine's hard-on and started coating it with the gold colored fluid.

"Aren't you going to undress me first?" Blaine asked. He hissed as Kurt's hand came in contact with his cock, expecting the lube to be cold since Kurt didn't warm it in his hands. As soon as the liquid touched his skin, it tingled and then warmed.

Kurt twisted his lips into a devious grin.

"Nope. Everything you're wearing is dry cleanable."

Kurt bent over Blaine's cock and blew cold air over it, causing the liquid to heat even more. Blaine thrust up involuntarily.

Kurt chuckled.

"This has real gold in it," Kurt explained, raising up to line himself up with Blaine's cock. "It reacts to hot and cold."

Blaine's eyes rolled to the back of his head as Kurt lowered himself slowly, fitting himself over his erection carefully.

Every where Kurt's tight heat settled over Blaine's cock sent chills down the shaft, prompted by the new lube, but in the spots still exposed to the cool air in the room, Blaine felt warm tingles on his skin. The lube seemed especially slick, more like a viscous oil than the stuff they normally used.

The lube must have had a similar effect on Kurt because he shivered as he lowered himself over Blaine's cock.

"Oh God," Blaine moaned, closing his eyes and lying flat on the bed. "I'm not going to last that long with this stuff.

"Then, I should ring you," Kurt suggested with a smirk.

Blaine's eyes popped open. He grabbed Kurt's hips in a vice grip before he had a chance to lift off him.

"Too late now," Blaine said. "You're already here."

Kurt laughed, clenching around Blaine's cock when he did, the intense heat causing the lube to cool Blaine's cock even more.

Kurt reached out over Blaine, spreading some of the liquid across Blaine's chest and nipples, blowing along the shimmery golden trail. Blaine grabbed at the sheets on the bed, arching his back to follow Kurt's mouth as he blew over his skin.

"Kurt." Blaine's broken voice groaned wantonly. "You're going to kill me, baby."

"Not yet," Kurt remarked. "Not until I have you."

Blaine marveled at Kurt's muscle control, how he moved so smoothly up and down, how he rarely tired. Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, emptying what was left in the ampule into his palm.

Blaine groaned, snapping his hips up a bit to match Kurt's rhythm.

"This stuff's pretty potent." Kurt moved Blaine's hand over his cock, a silent plea to touch him. Blaine wrapped his fingers around Kurt's cock and squeezed, gently but firmly. Kurt braced himself with his hands on Blaine's chest, stilling for a moment as he absorbed the sensation of cool settling over his sensitive skin.

"I can tell," Blaine said. "It's pretty amazing."

He started pumping Kurt, watching his reaction as he whimpered, biting his lip and rolling his head again.

"Y-you should try it on b-both ends," Kurt stammered, reveling in the confusing sensation of hot and cold as it rippled along inside him and around his cock. "Jesus..." he moaned, moving more quickly to chase the friction of Blaine's hand.

Blaine whined as he watched Kurt, unable to hold himself back, bucking up into Blaine's fist, moving his hands over his chest, spreading whatever lube he had left on his hand over his own nipples. Blaine sat up, blowing lightly over Kurt's skin the same way Kurt had done to Blaine. Kurt groaned loudly, almost unseating himself from Blaine's cock as his hips stuttered. Kurt slowly started to pull off the red jacket, needing to feel more of Blaine's naked skin against him. He delicately tossed the furry coat to the floor, then pressed himself against Blaine's chest, humming excitedly as the friction of their coated skin sent shivers of hot and cold soaring through his body. Kurt could feel it all over - up his spine, over his cock, along his nipples, and in his ass.

Kurt became a writhing mess. Blaine fought to hold him with his free arm, enjoying the felling of Kurt's body sliding over and around him.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt moaned, trying to find purchase over Blaine's slick skin. "God, Blaine, I love you."

Kurt couldn't seem to stop talking once he got started. Blaine kissed up the column of Kurt's neck while he listened.

"I love you...everything about you, Blaine," Kurt continued, words stumbling over each other to fall from his lips, shameless and unbidden. "I love your heart and your smile...and your body, Blaine. God, I love your body so much."

Kurt started a frantic pace, and Blaine almost came, almost screamed at the sensation of hot and cold as it hit him with the power and speed of a jet engine turbine, lighting up his skin.

"Your amazing body..." Kurt groaned, mumbling quicker as if he knew he was about to cum, knew he was about to step off that edge, but needed to get the words out. "Your amazing tongue on my skin..."

Blaine licked a stripe up Kurt's neck and Kurt grabbed for him, running his nails along Blaine's skin.

"A-and your glorious ass..."

Blaine chuckled.

Kurt was almost breathless, unable to stop moving, unable to keep from bucking into Blaine's fist, not wanting this combination of hot, cold, hard, soft to end.

"I wish you could feel this," Kurt whispered, delicately nibbling Blaine's shoulder, trying to go harder, faster over Blaine's cock.

Blaine knew what Kurt needed.

He grabbed Kurt around the waist, holding him close and flipping their positions on the bed. Blaine managed to kick off the pants carefully, and cheered quietly to himself as he laid Kurt down with his ass hanging off the edge of the bed. He grabbed one of Kurt's hands wrapping it around his cock.

"Do you think you can take care of this for me, baby?" Blaine whispered seductively, kissing him tenderly, feeling Kurt nod his head as he kissed him. Kurt slowly began to stroke himself, watching Blaine with a fire melting his eyes from a cool blue to a steel grey.

Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine's waist, waiting patiently, anticipating Blaine's next move as Blaine grabbed onto Kurt's hips and held him tight. Blaine tried a few experimental strokes, watching Kurt's eyelids fall closed, watched as Kurt bit his lip raw. Kurt's hand moved quicker, his hips stuttering slightly in Blaine's grasp.

Blaine began with no warning, pounding away, driving into Kurt in earnest.

Kurt's back arched, his arm a blur as his hand moved over his cock. Kurt wanted to scream, wanted to wake up the house yelling Blaine's name, but he couldn't. The most he could do was to groan loudly, a gravelly sound in the back of his throat.

The intense friction, added by the thick fluid, and the hot and cold chasing each other along his skin, had Kurt spiraling within minutes at Blaine's relentless pace.

"Yes! Yes, Blaine! More Blaine!"

Kurt didn't imagine Blaine could actually give him more, but he asked anyway, begging and begging with no ability to stop. As it turned out, Blaine had more to give, lifting Kurt's legs to put one over each shoulder, spreading his cheeks with his hands so he could drive into Kurt deeper.

Kurt was amazed by his boyfriend. He opened his eyes to watch the man who was giving him so much pleasure. Blaine's muscles strained as he moved, his abs curling, contracting deliciously. Kurt could see every ripple of his six pack. His arms, holding Kurt open and up off the bed, didn't twitch or show any sign of fatigue. The very idea that Blaine could do this to Kurt all night was almost enough to make Kurt cum.

Kurt didn't think he would ever describe another man's cock as incredible. It sounded kind of cheesy. But Blaine's was. It was incredible, if for no other reason than it felt like Blaine was made to be in him. The two of them, their bodies, fit together so well. Blaine could find that special spot inside Kurt with no effort, no clumsy searching or awkward adjusting. They just slid together, like the pieces of a puzzle that were meant to always be connected.

It was Blaine's eyes that did him in. Blaine's eyes were closed, his whole face calm, betraying the physical exertion of his whole body. When Blaine heard Kurt, whimpering, moaning, begging wordlessly for release, Blaine opened his eyes. Blaine looked at Kurt with so much love, so much adoration, Kurt was lost. He came under the soft glow of those eyes. They drew it out of Kurt, looked into his soul and saw everything there was to see of him, lying open and vulnerable on the bed. The cool air danced over Kurt's skin, heating the haphazard trail of lube on his chest and nipples. His entire body sparked and crackled. He spilled over his own chest, his skin turning to ice wherever his hot cum touched it.

Blaine saw Kurt come, saw his blue eyes roll, his back arch off the bed, felt Kurt's tight hole squeeze around him. He couldn't help but stare in awe as this gorgeous man became an immense, unearthly beauty as he came, every muscle responding, every inch of him reacting, his skin flushing red, his breath stopping for just a moment as his orgasm rushed over him, his eyelids delicately fluttering closed, and his pounding heart vibrating his whole chest.

Blaine's body tingled as he came. He gripped Kurt's cheeks hard in his hands, feeling his own hot cum ignite a flame around the sensitive skin of his cock. His body screamed to withdraw, to be out of Kurt and away from the heat, but Blaine wanted it - wanted Kurt's heat and his own heat to burn him away to pieces, to ashes, so that later, under the hot spray of the shower, or in his arms in bed, Kurt could put Blaine back together, kiss after kiss, touch after touch.

The tingling didn't stop when Blaine had finished coming. It didn't stop when he softened and pulled out of Kurt reluctantly. It definitely didn't stop when an exhausted and sated Kurt knelt up on the bed and threw himself into Blaine's arms.

Blaine prayed that the tingling never stopped, that he could carry it with him when he and Kurt had to part, and that it would always be with them when they held each other like this, when the lines between them blurred, and they became one.

"You're so beautiful," Kurt whispered as he gently kissed Blaine's shoulder.

"Well," Blaine gasped, overcome by Kurt in his arms, "you did a good job."

Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes. Blaine could see them shimmering in the low light. Kurt shook his head slowly. He sat on the bed, arms still wrapped around Blaine's waist. He rested his head over Blaine's chest, right above his heart.

"No, Blaine," Kurt whispered. " _You're_ beautiful."

Blaine put a hand in Kurt's hair, trembling under the weight of Kurt' s love, empowering him for tomorrow when he would have to go to the studio and face the devils he worked with.

Too bad he couldn't just spend all day with Kurt, playing with the kids, eating all his meals with the family, and making love into the night. If he could find a way to fit music in there somewhere, that would be his perfect life.

He heard Kurt sniffle as the camera flashed twice.

"Ugh," Kurt groaned, smiling up at Blaine and wiping his eyes with long fingers. "I forgot about that." Kurt stood up and hurried to the tripod, pressing a button on the tiny gadget that ran the camera.

"We should go shower," Kurt suggested, extending a hand for Blaine to take. "I need to get you to bed, right? Don't you have a 6 a.m. call?"

"Blech!" Blaine reached for Kurt. "Good feelings gone."

Kurt scrunched his face.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said.

Blaine shook his head and pulled Kurt to him, fitting his body against him, swaying with him slightly. He felt the tingle on his skin as they touched. It felt nice.

Then, Blaine stopped, a quizzical expression on his face as he stared ahead.

"I just thought of something," Blaine said, and then started laughing.

"What?" Kurt asked, a little concerned. "What did you just think of?"

Blaine looked at Kurt's stunned expression and almost laughed again.

"What temperature water do we use to wash this off with?"


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize ahead of time to any Kim Kardashian fans.

 

The next morning, Kurt woke Blaine up in enough time to scroll through the photos before he had to get ready for work.  
  
"I never asked...did you make that outfit?" Blaine fumbled with the buttons before Kurt took the camera back and pointed out the controls.  
  
"Yup," Kurt said, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder. "Not too long ago, actually. I've just never worn it. I think it got a pretty nice christening, don't you? At least I know it's durable."  
  
Blaine smirked as he looked at the photos. Then his eyes went wide, cock tenting the bed sheets with every new shot. The camera had taken over 200 photos, and Blaine savored each and every one. The first pictures were of Blaine alone, posed in front of the window. But the ones of Blaine and Kurt together weren't just erotic; they were artistic. There was a picture of Blaine - his first reaction shot - looking past Kurt to the camera. There was another of Kurt on his knees, his mouth completely sheathing Blaine's erection, Blaine's head rolled to the side,  lips parted, eyes closed. Another of the two of them together was his favorite - Kurt riding Blaine, moving up slowly, just a small portion of Blaine's cock exposed, Blaine sitting up with his arms wrapped around Kurt's body. Kurt's skin glowed. He looked like marble in the low light of the room, Blaine's dark hands a stain on his body, but they were connected, blissfully one, like an intricate statue of the human form, depicting a scene where Kurt was a fallen angel, and Blaine was the man he had left heaven for.  
  
Blaine barely got halfway through the photos before he moaned out loud. Kurt smiled.  
  
"How about you finish these..." Kurt said, indicating the camera, "while I finish this." Kurt slipped beneath the sheets and took Blaine's cock into his mouth.  
  


* * *

  
  
Early morning head was the best thing ever to keep your mind off of work-related stress, Blaine realized. He whistled as he walked to his trailer, getting into his clothes for his shoot that morning. He spent longer than necessary in the make-up chair. The moment Deidre touched his skin with the foundation sponge, Blaine thought of Kurt painstakingly applying his make-up before making love to him in front of a camera, and his face flushed red. Deidre went manic, trying desperately to cool Blaine's skin tone. It was made all the worse when he had to pull on his character's skin tight pants with a massive hard-on after Kurt had texted him a few choice photos from last night.   
  
Blaine looked at the photo of himself, posed in front of the window, rereading the text that went with it.  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _You're gorgeous, sweetheart. That's all you...and the outfit...feel free to wear it any time ;)_  
  
Gears started to spin in Blaine's head as he read it over again.  
  
 _That's all you._  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
 _'Sounds like a photo release to me,'_ Blaine thought, shooting out a quick text. Blaine sighed. He hoped this would work the way he planned.  
  
Blaine walked on set, dressed in boat shoes, tight jeans, a button down shirt, a cardigan, and a red and green striped bow tie. He looked at his reflection in a temporary stand up mirror and grimaced.  
  
"Does this guy ever grow up?" he murmured in disgust, referring to his character's clothes. He turned in front of the mirror, looking at the fit of his jeans, the way the cardigan hung over his waistband. He used to think he looked hot in these clothes. Now, they just annoyed him. He remembered Kurt dressing him up last night, the tight pants hugging his skin, that super clingy fabric that wrapped around his torso like an embrace, that strangely erotic fur jacket.  
  
The way he looked in those photographs - like a man, sexy, desirable, and with a mind of his own. One that could make his own decisions about his life and its direction.  
  
His daydreaming was interrupted when a magazine was thrust in his line of sight, the pages folded over to reveal a specific article.  
  
"What the fuck is this!?" Brad roared, shaking the issue a few centimeters from Blaine's face.  
  
Blaine squinted through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses as he looked at the page.  
  
"Oh, good!" he remarked. "Kim Kardashian lost the baby weight." He squinted at the picture again and frowned. "She still looks like a four dollar whore."   
  
Blaine turned and walked toward the table where the reading was being held with Brad hot on his heels.  
  
"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it!"  
  
Blaine sat at the table with Mia, Sebastian, and a few extras already in attendance. Brad slammed the magazine down on the table.  
  
"I'm talking about these pictures!" Brad shook the magazine emphatically, stabbing at the page with his finger. "You and your little twink making out in the supermarket? And what's all this about you and him at Legoland? With his kids?"  
  
Blaine took a moment to look up at Brad. The man looked seriously deranged, face red, eyes bugging out, a random vein pulsing in his neck. Blaine wanted to laugh, and he would have if it wasn't also slightly scary.  
  
Mia picked up the magazine and scanned through the article.  
  
"Harpy bitch!?" she screeched.  
  
Sebastian, who had been sipping a cup of hot coffee, choked suddenly, spitting a mouthful across the table.  
  
Blaine laughed so hard, he thought he was going to tip his chair over. A handful of extras got up and left the table.  
  
"So, who do I call, Blaine?" Brad said, dramatically taking out his iPhone. "Social services, or do I just call the cops?"  
  
Blaine smirked.  
  
"Call whomever you want," he chuckled. "Because if either of those agencies even decided to do anything, do you know what they'd tell you?"  
  
Brad looked at Blaine with a blank expression, phone poised to his head as if he was actually calling someone.  
  
"Well," Blaine continued when he got no response, "they would tell you that Kurt and his family don't live in that run down little trailer anymore. In fact, they recently moved to a beautiful, fully renovated house, so there's really nothing you can do about whether or not I see him."  
  
Blaine stood, grabbing the messenger bag his character had with him in every scene and walked off to where the props crew constructed his bedroom set.  
  
Mia threw the magazine down onto the table, crossing her arms across her chest.  
  
"What now?"  
  
Sebastian looked off in the direction that Blaine had walked, scrunching his nose as he thought, replaying every interaction he had with Kurt, or had ever witnessed between Blaine and Kurt.   
  
_"It seems like you're always buying me."_  
  
 _"I have no intention of making you a whore. Not like_ some _people..."_  
  
Sebastian smiled.  
  
"I think I've got it!" Sebastian said.   
  


* * *

  
  
Kurt couldn't stop looking at the house. Even after living in it, he couldn't believe it was all real. He would walk from room to room, opening the doors, looking at the murals on the walls, admiring the new furniture. He would breathe in the the fading odors of fresh paint and sigh.  
  
This day in particular was panning out to be fantastic. Dave had called Thad first thing, just as he had promised, and spent all morning with the man filling out applications and all sorts of other paperwork. Thad called the admissions office to tell them to expect his fax and to process it immediately. When a stuttering girl on the other side of the line said she was sorry, but that might not be possible, he simply said no, and to expect him in an hour. Then he shuffled Dave off in his Audi to the university campus and personally introduced Dave around to the dean of students, the head of the sport's management department, and pretty much anyone else he could find with any sort of clout. He introduced Dave as a special friend of Blaine's, and by the end of the morning, everyone in the sport's management program knew Dave's name.  
  
When Dave finally returned home, he told Kurt that he would be starting school on Monday.  
  
Kurt was so overjoyed, he didn't object when Dave picked him up and spun him around in a circle until he thought he would be sick.  
  
Dave sat on the sofa with Finn, looking over some paperwork for the next school year. Kurt had tried to get Finn and Barbra into school the minute he could, but he found out the school in their zone was on a four track system, whatever that meant. The only track with any room was D, and it ended in a month. They directed Kurt to an independent learning system where the children would do their work at home and meet with a teacher a few times before the school year ended. They were also nice enough to direct Kurt to services for Eva. He had appointments all lined up for evaluations of every kind, and appointments with physical and occupational therapists.  
  
Blaine was right. The opportunities for Dave and the kids were much better in L. A. He was so glad he was able to swallow his pride and agree to move - though he had to admit, regardless of how much he loved Blaine, the threat of having the kids taken away had also been a huge impetus to leave San Diego.  
  
When Kurt heard a knock at the door, he practically danced over to answer it. He imagined it was most likely Nick, since he kept dropping by unannounced. Not that Kurt minded since they mostly talked about Jeff and Blaine.  
  
He didn't expect to see Sebastian and Mia standing at there instead.  
  
"Hello, Kurt," Sebastian said, emphasizing the last 't', rolling back and forth on his heels.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Skank," Kurt greeted them with a smile. "How might I help you...off my property, that is?"  
  
Kurt was just about to shut the door, but Sebastian caught it with his hand. Dave looked up from the couch at the sound. He saw Kurt's demeanor change - his back became ramrod straight, his stance defensive. He tried to shut the door, but someone kept it open. Kurt didn't ask Dave for help, so he wouldn't jump up to intervene just yet, but he decided to pay close attention as Kurt spoke to the faceless person outside.  
  
"Why do I feel like I'm about to be double-teamed?" Kurt sighed.  
  
"Do you charge extra for that?" Sebastian asked with a smirk. Mia chuckled beside him. Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
"Look, I get it. I'm a whore...except, I'm not. I'm not even a working  dominatrix anymore. And this..." he said, gesturing between the two with one long finger, "is getting old, and sad, so if you will excuse me..."  
  
Kurt started closing the door again.  
  
"How's this house Blaine bought you working out?"  
  
Kurt stopped. Sebastian and Mia chuckled darkly as if sharing a joke.  
  
"What do you mean 'bought for me'?" Kurt asked. "He didn't buy it for me. He already owned it. He owns a lot of properties."  
  
"Yeah, he does," Mia agreed, counting off on her fingers. "He has the penthouse in New York, the vacation home in Aspen, and another small apartment in Paris. I should know. I've been naked in all of them."  
  
"And you call me a whore," Kurt shot back, shifting his eyes uncomfortably.  
  
"Think about it, pretty boy," Sebastian interjected. "Blaine told you he bought this house when he first moved to L. A.?"  
  
Kurt nodded numbly.  
  
"Now, why would a hot, single, eligible young bachelor buy this run down family house whose biggest assets are it's proximity to the best schools in L.A., and is literally a hop, skip and a jump away from where Blaine lives now?"  
  
Mia reached into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Kurt took it, ready for this ruse to be over so he could go on with his life. He opened it to find a listing for his house, recent as of a few months ago.  
  
"Whore to whore, Kurt," Mia said, leaning towards him and whispering conspiratorially, "How much cock do you have to suck and ass do you have to lick to get him to buy you a fucking house?"  
  
Kurt's insides were now frozen solid, but his hand moved on its own, slapping Mia soundly across the face and slamming the door to the symphony of her cursing.  
  
Kurt gripped the paper in his hand. His shoulders shook as he read the listing over and over, looking at the pictures of the exterior, the guest house, the rooms with their yellow striped wallpaper.  
  
It was true. It was his house.  
  
"Kurt?"  
  
Dave's voice barely registered as Kurt crumpled up the paper and tossed it to the floor.  
  
 _'He did it,'_ Kurt thought, running his fingers through his hair. _'He bought me. I told him not to, and he fucking bought me!'_  
  
Kurt trembled. He wanted to sit down and cry.  
  
In his head, his thoughts warred.   
  
Y _ou needed a house, and Blaine bought it for you. Simple._  
  
 _Not simple! There was no reason for Blaine to spend over three quarters of a million dollars on me._  
  
 _But what about the family? The family needed the house._  
  
 _Not a $750,000 house!!_  
  
 _You're in L. A. With Blaine. You're going to pay him back._  
  
 _Pay him back with **his** money! I work for **him**!_  
  
"Kurt?" Dave walked over to him slowly, watching as Kurt squeezed his eye shut tight, tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
Dave crouched down and retrieved the crumpled paper on the floor. He flattened it out as much as he could to read it. Dave's face fell, his mouth forming a little 'o'.  
  
Kurt was already dialing his phone when Dave looked back up.  
  
"Um, Kurt?" Dave tried to get Kurt to listen to him. "Don't you think you should wait and talk to him about this in person? At least calm down..."  
  
"Hello, gorgeous!"   
  
Blaine sounded relaxed and happy. Kurt faltered for a moment, ready to change his mind. He looked back at Dave, ready to listen to reason, until he saw the paper in Dave's hands.  
  
He put the phone on speaker.  
  
"Did you buy me the house?" Kurt said, his words soft, accusing.  
  
Blaine went silent.  
  
"Did you buy me the house?" Kurt asked again, this time a little louder, and a little angrier, his voice shaking.  
  
Blaine sighed.  
  
"Why do you think..."  
  
"You're two little friends were just here, Blaine," Kurt growled.   
  
"Kurt, baby, why would you believe anything..."  
  
"They brought me a copy of the listing!" Kurt was on the edge of tears.  
  
Blaine sighed again, longer this time. Dave knew that sound.   
  
"I just want you to tell me the truth."  
  
"Does it matter?" Blaine asked, and Kurt knew that was a yes.   
  
"Of course, it matters!" Kurt yelled.  
  
"Why?" Blaine asked. "Why does it matter? You needed it anyway, and I was able to give it to you."  
  
"It matters to me," Kurt said. "It matters because I want you to be honest with me! It matters because I don't want you buying me! I don't want what Mia and Sebastian are saying to be true...I don't want to be your whore!"  
  
"First of all..." Blaine could feel himself getting angry - not at Kurt, but at Seb and Mia for not minding their own business. He tried to stay calm, "...believe it or not, I didn't give the house just to you. I gave it to you and your family. I happen to care about all of you, very much."   
  
Kurt scoffed, and looked down at his feet.   
  
"Second of all, you're not my whore. And what does it matter what anyone says?" Blaine implored. "Why do you care?"  
  
"Because," Kurt said around a sob, "I don't want what we have tainted by a lie."  
  
Sitting in his trailer, Blaine was being eaten up inside.  
  
Blaine didn't want to fight with Kurt. More than anything, he just wanted everything to be okay. He didn't see a way out that Kurt would accept.  
  
He had just gotten Kurt - the whole family. He couldn't just let them go.  
  
"Then buy it from me," Blaine whispered. "I'll sell it to you, if that's what you would rather. Just, don't leave."   
  
"Blaine..." Kurt almost choked as he fought back tears. "Blaine, I..."  
  
"Please?" Blaine said, barely above a whisper. "Please, just don't go."  
  
Kurt rubbed his eyes, willing away a headache that was threatening to start.  
  
"How much?"   
  
"How much for what?" Blaine asked.  
  
"For the house." Kurt sighed. "How much?"  
  
"A dollar." Blaine spoke without hesitation.  
  
"Fuck you." Kurt's face was hot as tears broke free and raced down his cheeks.   
  
Blaine cursed silently.  
  
"I'll call my broker," Blaine relented. "I'll get you fair market price. I promise. Just, please don't leave."  
  
"Okay," was all Kurt said before he disconnected the call. Blaine dropped his head into his hands.  
  
Dave watched Kurt as he stormed into his room, choking on tears. He shook his head, blowing out a strained breath through his teeth.  
  


* * *

  
  
Blaine sat, looking at his phone, willing it to ring, willing Kurt to come back to him.

 

Fuck Seb and fuck Mia!

 

Blaine looked around his trailer, targeted a ridiculous, unnecessary piece of crap abstract sculpture and threw it, watching it shatter with a satisfying crash against the wall.

  
A few minutes later, Blaine received a text message.  
  
 _From: Dave_  
 _Could we meet for lunch? I think we need to talk._


	38. Chapter 38

Dave examined all the silverware on the table. A multitude of forks and spoons lined the sides of his plate, like a small army waiting to attack. The image made Dave chuckle.  
  
Blaine sat on the opposite side of the table, nervously picking at his salad. Dave watched as Blaine would spear several pieces of lettuce, dip them in dressing, bring the fork half way to his mouth, then put it back down again, all while looking passed Dave into the distance, his mind obviously elsewhere.  
  
Dave didn't know exactly how to break the ice.  
  
"You know, the last time I was at a restaurant was with Kurt."  
  
Blaine looked up at the mention of Kurt's name.  
  
"Yeah, we went to this place called Breadstix in Lima." Dave chuckled. Blaine furrowed his brow.  
  
"Breadstix?"  
  
"Yeah." Dave shook his head. "It's kind of like Olive Garden. The schtick is you get unlimited breadsticks, but they were more sticks than bread."  
  
Blaine smiled weakly.  
  
"Yeah. And the food's pretty awful. But we have a lot of history in that place." Dave's face fell as he lost himself to a memory. "I always promised myself that as soon as I could, I would take Kurt to a nice restaurant."  
  
"I took him to The Chart House," Blaine offered sadly.  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Dave smiled and nodded. "I heard that place is nice."  
  
"It was," Blaine agreed, remembering Kurt's head on his shoulder as they looked out at the water, sitting at their table until the waiters became annoyed with them, subtly trying to find ways to get them to leave. Blaine knew Kurt wouldn't admit it, but all of the wait staff's fussing made his dominatrix want to stay, just to piss them off.  
  
"Thad said you guys went down to Long Beach," Blaine said, trying to move the conversation along further.  
  
"We did," Dave confirmed.  
  
"How did that go?" Blaine asked, genuinely interested.  
  
"I start school Monday," Dave said proudly. Blaine smiled.  
  
"Good." Blaine nodded. "Good for you."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Dave watched Blaine's eyes sink back to his plate, his fork once again negotiating the lettuce.  
  
"Look," Dave said, sitting up straight. "Don't worry about Kurt leaving."  
  
Blaine looked at Dave, his eyes hopeful. Dave laughed.  
  
"He loves you, man," Dave said. "He just wants you to be honest with him, that's all."  
  
Blaine dropped his head again.  
  
"I was being honest." Blaine picked up his fork again, not looking into Dave's smirking face.  
  
Blaine sighed.  
  
"Kurt told me about you and him." Blaine didn't know why he said it. Part of him didn't want Dave judging him after what Dave had done. "About the bullying, I mean."  
  
Blaine thought Dave would be furious, probably threaten him and leave. To his surprise, Dave just looked sad.  
  
"I figured he would," Dave said. "I didn't think he could hide that tattoo from you for long."  
  
"He did." Blaine felt the need to reassure Dave. "He wouldn't let me see it for a while."  
  
Dave smirked.  
  
"Did he tell you the part where I tried to hang myself in my closet?"  
  
Blaine's eyes went wide as he looked into Dave's face. Dave looked down at his own plate now.  
  
"Yeah." Dave shook his head. "I transferred schools after the prom thing. I just wanted to finish out the school year and play football without my teammates hearing rumors about me." Dave sank down in his chair a little. "Kurt promised he wouldn't out me, but I wasn't worried about him. I was worried about me."  
  
Dave sighed, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Anyway, it was Valentine's and I wanted to woo him, you know. Win him over. At the time, he was in love with some douche...Darren, I think his name was. I sent Kurt love letters and flowers, all signed from his 'secret admirer'..."  
  
Blaine sat forward, hanging on to Dave's every word.  
  
"I even showed up to his school incognito...dressed as a gorilla gram." Dave smiled, his cheeks quickly turning red.  
  
Blaine chuckled.  
  
"You...in a gorilla suit...that's incognito?"  
  
"Yeah." Dave shook his head. "I was a little head over heels at the time. I invited him to Breadstix, and told him I loved him."  
  
"What happened?" Blaine was enthralled, caught up in this story he had never even imagined before.  
  
"He turned me down. Nicely, but still." Dave shrugged. "But someone from my school saw us together at the restaurant and told every one on the team."  
  
Blaine went cold. He was angry again, but this time on Dave's behalf. In Blaine's mind, teenaged Blaine emerged again, trying to find a way to make the past better for Dave, trying to help defend him against cruel kids and a short-sighted world.  
  
"You know," Dave scoffed, "I made Kurt's life a living hell for months, and when the same thing happened to me, I couldn't even take it for a week...my supposed best friend telling me he never wanted to talk to me again. My mom telling me I had a disease, and maybe I could be cured..."  
  
Dave's words hit a chord, and Blaine shifted his eyes down to his own hands, fighting back tears.  
  
"And then?" Blaine whispered. He felt bad drilling Dave for information, but he had to know that Dave had repented for the things he had done, for those horrible bruises marring Kurt's beautiful skin.  
  
"My dad found me, and took me to the hospital. My dad could accept me, my mom couldn't. They broke up. But, Kurt...he visited me in the hospital. He helped me focus on the good, helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. In a lot of ways, without Kurt, I wouldnt' be here." Dave looked into Blaine's watery gaze. "Kurt's a man people can rely on. He's always there when you need him, and he's always honest. So many people he loved...well, they weren't the same."  
  
"How do you mean?" Blaine put the forkful of salad in his mouth, pulling the lettuce off the tines and chewing thoughtfully.  
  
Dave's eyes shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, there's me, of course. Then his dad. The problems with his heart. That's not his dad's fault, of course, but it's hit Kurt real hard. It started in high school, and, you know, at that age you still think your parents are going to live forever." Blaine nodded, not saying a word that would interrupt Dave's story.  
  
Dave seemed to battle against what would come next, but decided to continue.  
  
"That high school boyfriend of his..." Dave shook his head, a disapproving frown on his face. "Kurt was so in love with him. I think he was his first. Kurt was a year older. He graduated first, but he stayed in Lima, waiting for his boyfriend to be done with high school. Anyways, this Darren guy, he convinced Kurt to move to New York, and when Kurt was there, Darren cheated on him. Kurt couldn't forgive him."  
  
Dave waved his hand dismissively, ending that particular topic.  
  
"Finn and Rachel."  
  
Dave's eyes drifted over the table. He bit his lip, feeling guilty for talking about his best friend behind his back. "I know he won't admit it, but sometimes he feels like they let him down, you know? For dying and leaving us with four kids."  
  
Blaine nodded. He did know.  
  
Dave looked at Blaine pointedly.  
  
"He needs to know he can depend on the people he loves." Dave's voice was even. "He just wants the truth, Anderson. So, what's the truth.?"  
  
Blaine swallowed hard.  
  
"The truth is... the house was mine," Blaine said, holding Dave's gaze.  
  
Dave almost looked incredulous. Blaine desperately needed Dave to understand.  
  
"The listing _was_ mine." Blaine sounded defeated. " _I_ was selling the house."  
  
Dave's eyes went wide.  
  
"I've been trying to sell it for the last few years."  
  
"Why not just tell him that?" Dave asked.  
  
Blaine let his fork drop to his plate, sitting back in his chair. Blaine pushed his hands through his hair. He covered his eyes, like a child, knowing it would be easier to say to the dark.  
  
"Because I was ashamed."  
  
Dave waited patiently for Blaine to explain.  
  
"I didn't lie to him. The house was the first thing I bought when I came to California and became an actor. But the house wasn't for me." Blaine sighed. "It was for my parents."  
  
Dave sat up straighter, watching as the shadow of a grimace crossed Blaine's features, chased by a look of shame, followed by regret.  
  
Dave thought he knew what Blaine was feeling, had just seen it play out across his face.  
  
"I came out to my parents my sophomore year in high school," Blaine started, his voice heavy. "And that's when I stopped being their son."  
  
Dave's heart broke.  
  
He moved, settling into the chair beside Blaine.  
  
"They didn't hit me, or yell at me, or lecture me, or threaten me," Blaine said with tears in his eyes. "No. What they did was way worse. They ignored me. I ceased to exist from the moment the words 'I'm gay' left my mouth."  
  
Dave settled a hand over Blaine's. He could feel Blaine trembling.    
  
"I tried everything to get them to love me again."  
  
Blaine's voice broke.  
  
Dave squeezed Blaine's hand reassuringly.  
  
"I joined the debate team, model U.N., got straight A's, student body president, lead soloist of the glee club. Nothing worked."  
  
Blaine took a deep breath in through his nose, slowly releasing it through pursed lips.  
  
"When the casting call went out for _Sing,_ I signed up. I figured if I got on the show, then my parents might be proud of me again. If not, well, I would be out of the house and moving on with my life."  
  
"What if you didn't get on?" Dave asked quietly, trying to understand young Blaine Anderson.  
  
Blaine turned to look at Dave, his eyes wide, hopeless.  
  
"There was no other alternative," Blaine said seriously and Dave knew. He and Blaine were a little more alike than they even realized.  
  
"So, you got on the show," Dave prompted gently.  
  
Blaine nodded.  
  
"I told my parents over dinner." Blaine sniffled. "They didn't look at me. They didn't say a word. I packed my bags that night, emptied out my bank account, and I left."  
  
Blaine squeezed Dave's hand.  
  
"After my first season on the show, after I became a big hit and my face was everywhere, I thought for sure this would all blow over. They'd have seen me, of course, and be proud of me. Everything would be all right."  
  
Dave could hear the hitch in Blaine's voice, the teenage boy in the body of this man telling a story no one else had ever heard before.  
  
"I wrote to them every day. I never heard back, but that was all right." Blaine wiped stray tears from his eyes. "Finally, I thought, if I was going to get them back, I'd have to do something big. So, I bought them the house."  
  
Blaine looked up, eyes focusing and refocusing as he blinked away more tears than he could fight.  
  
"I sent them the keys and the picture from the listing. I thought for sure they'd move out here with me. But they didn't. They sent me a shoebox with all of my letters in it...unopened...including the one with the keys."  
  
Dave didn't know what to say. He didn't know where to look. Blaine gripped Dave's hand for dear life.  
  
"I held onto that house, every day thinking they would call me and want to be my parents again. I had the whole thing planned. They would love me and accept me and live with me. The next time I heard from them was when I turned twenty-one. They forwarded me a letter from their lawyer informing me that the trust my grandparents had left me had been officially turned over to me, and I needed to sign some paperwork to get it. And that was the end of that."  
  
Blaine turned to Dave, and Dave almost didn't recognize him. His eyes, red rimmed and swollen from bleeding hot tears, his skin drawn and pale, his tense jaw shuddering.  
  
"Dave," Blaine squeaked. All at once, Blaine crumbled, as if his whole body had just given up being a solid mass and tried to disappear. Dave caught him in his chair, wrapping his arms around him, letting Blaine sobbed into his chest. Blaine tried to speak, choking around words. Dave shushed him quietly, soothingly rubbing a hand up and down his arms.  
  
"It's okay," Dave repeated, feeling Blaine's whole body shake in his arms.  
  
"I can't lose him," Blaine finally managed to say. "I can't. Him, and you, and the kids...I can't lose you."  
  
Dave sighed, holding Blaine tighter, shielding him from the eyes of nosy onlookers who might want to get a cell phone pic of the famous Blaine Anderson breaking down in the middle of a restaurant. He even glared at one or two people who tried to look around them, until they turned back to their meals.  
  
"You're not going to lose us, Anderson," Dave reassured him.  
  
Dave rolled his eyes and smiled. How did he get himself into these situations? Where was all the excitement in his life before they had met Blaine Anderson?  
  
"Look..." Dave handed Blaine a napkin. Blaine gently blotted his eyes. "Kurt loves you, and Eva loves you. The kids adore you and I..."  
  
Blaine looked up at Dave, eyes wide, imploring.  
  
"I...don't hate you."  
  
Blaine chuckled.  
  
"You have to tell him." Dave's eyes softened as he spoke.  
  
Blaine shook his head, fiddling with the napkin in his hands.  
  
"I don't know how."  
  
"Just one word at a time," Dave said. "Just like you told me. Tell him. He deserves to know, and he deserves to hear it from you."  
  
Blaine nodded. Dave put a strong arm around Blaine's shoulders, patting him hard on the back.  
  
"Just stay with me, Anderson."

* * *

  
  
Dave drove straight to the house. Kurt was sitting on the sofa watching Moulin Rouge, tears pouring down his cheeks, a half eaten cheesecake beside him on the blue sofa cushion. Kurt barely acknowledged Dave when he walked in, but watched him carefully as he shuffled the children one by one out to the van.  
  
"Where are you all going?" Kurt asked sadly as he watched his entire support system walking out the door.  
  
"Uh, nowhere," Dave said. "I'll be right back."  
  
Dave and the children left, leaving Kurt alone to watch Christian and Satine sing "Come What May".  
  
Dave returned alone not long after, his hands heavy with suspicious looking, unmarked, white plastic bags. Again, Dave ran passed Kurt and into the dining room. Kurt saw the lights dim.  
  
"Dave?" Kurt called, not yet willing to get off of the couch. "Dave? What are you doing?"  
  
"Just give me a second, Kurt," Dave called back.  
  
Kurt heard Dave taking plates out of the cupboard and silver ware out of the drawer. He wanted to give Dave more time, but after a few minutes, Kurt's curiosity got the best of him, and he went into the dining room to find him.  
  
Dave had lined the dining room table with candles, and lit them one by one. Kurt watched with a small smile on his lips as Dave poured out two glasses of white wine.  
  
"What are you doing, Dave?" Kurt asked, taking a seat at the table.  
  
"I thought after your long day I would get you some dinner." Dave smiled back at Kurt. "And then maybe we could talk."  
  
Kurt breathed in deep as Dave started serving dinner. It was something from a nearby Italian place that Kurt had noticed on their drive with Blaine. Dave didn't really cook much, but that was fine. Kurt didn't mind cooking. But when it mattered, Dave came through.  
  
"Dave..." Kurt sighed.  "Thank you so much for this."  
  
Kurt watched as Dave moved quickly around the table, the dim candle light reflecting off his skin. Kurt took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The house was uncustomarily quiet. For once, it was pleasant. A little lonely, but pleasant.  
  
"It's nice having a quiet meal," Kurt admitted. "I feel like you and I haven't talked in forever."  
  
Dave handed Kurt his plate of food. He sat down, looking at Kurt who looked back at him through the tapers. He reached across the table for Kurt's hand. They sat together in the glow of the dim light. Dave took a moment to stare across the table at Kurt's sparkling blue eyes. Dave had envisioned a moment just like this for as long as he could remember.  
  
This moment didn't belong to him, though.  
  
He cleared his throat.  
  
"Kurt, there was something I need to talk about with you," Dave began.  
  
Kurt smiled back at Dave. He looked into his honest, hazel eyes, a nervous smile flitting at the corners of his mouth. Kurt looked over the romantic candlelight and the wonderful smelling food. Kurt giggled. If Dave were anyone else, Kurt might think that he was going to ask him to...  
  
Kurt suddenly became very cold.  
  
What if Dave thought Kurt had broken up with Blaine? What if Dave actually asked him to marry him?  
  
Kurt sighed as the thought settled strangely beneath his skin. It wasn't the direction he had imagined his life heading, but it was good enough, right? They were friends. They loved each other in their own way, even though Dave's love for Kurt most likely outweighed Kurt's love for Dave. Kurt could learn to love Dave that way, couldn't he? Relationships take time, and work, and lots and lots of practice. They'd make mistakes along the way, but they'd work through them, and grow together stronger because they made the effort.  
  
He'd give Dave the benefit of the doubt. He owed him, right?  
  
The way he should have with Blaine.  
  
Kurt swallowed, realizing this moment between him and Dave had gone on for quite some time...aware that all of his emotions probably showed on his face.  
  
"Kurt..."  
  
Kurt sighed. He wasn't prepared for this decision. He needed to think. He wanted to run all of a sudden. Run away from this moment. Run away from this life.  
  
"...do you love him?"  
  
Kurt visibly startled, and his hand slipped slightly from Dave's grasp.  
  
"What?" Kurt asked. He didn't expect that particular question.  
  
Dave took Kurt's hand again, and squeezed it, smiling.  
  
"Do you love him?" he asked again with emphasis.  
  
"I...I..." Kurt sputtered. Dave chuckled and shook his head  
  
"Yes, you do," Dave said. "I know you do."  
  
Kurt sighed, and dropped his head, squeezing Dave's hand back.  
  
Kurt knew how he behaved with Blaine in front of Dave, knew how he shamelessly kissed and hugged and touched him. But he couldn't remember ever saying those words with Dave in attendance. He guessed by doing that he was sparing Dave's feelings.  
  
He should have known he wasn't hiding anything. Not reallly.  
  
"You know, I had a long talk with your boy today," Dave began. "And you two are so ridiculous. You both look at each other like the sun rises and sets in each other's eyes." Kurt blushed, smiling. "So I have to ask...why are you being so stubborn?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He wants to take care of you, Kurt! That's what a man does when he's in love! He wants to be part of your life...this life..." Dave released Kurt's hand to gesture around at their home. "He wants this, you and the kids, and to a degree, even me." Dave ducked his head, smiling a little. "You're not going to find someone else like that anywhere, Kurt. And, if you love him back, then there's no reason why you should let him go."  
  
"But, he lied to me!" Kurt said exasperated. "He lied about the house!"  
  
"No, he didn't," Dave said evenly, staring pointedly into Kurt's eyes. "He didn't lie. The house was his. You didn't give him a chance to explain."  
  
"I don't understand." Kurt tried to pull his hand away, but Dave wouldn't let him. He covered it with his other hand and held it tight. "When did you suddenly become his biggest fan? Why are you defending him?"  
  
"Because I know how he feels!" Dave's voice raised a bit, freezing Kurt in his seat. He hadn't heard Dave raise his voice since high school, and even just that little bit chilled Kurt just a bit. Dave took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.  
  
"Kurt," Dave let go of Kurt's hands, not wanting to make Kurt uncomfortable. "I have been in love with you for so long." Kurt nodded, looking at his lap. "I know what it feels like. I know Blaine a lot more now, and the two of us...we're kind of the same."  
  
"How?" Kurt sniffled, not looking back at Dave. "How are you the same?"  
  
"Well, I'll tell you," Dave said. "I think you should finish your dinner, get yourself put together, and then go pick up the kids...let Blaine tell you his side of the story."  
  
Kurt thought over Dave's words as Dave tucked into his lasagna. Kurt narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Dave? Where _are_ the kids?" Kurt asked.  
  
Dave chewed, then swallowed. He looked up at Kurt with a smirk as he cut off another bite with his fork.  
  
"They're at Blaine's."


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N:** _Okay guys. This is where things start to roll! Prepare for the ride. Warnings for bondage, sense denial, and a whole lot of romance. If you can manage to get your hands on a copy of the song "A Thousand Years" break it out now._

  
Kurt stayed a little longer and ate his dinner, talking with Dave about everything, anything, and nothing at all. He was telling the truth when he said he missed talking with Dave. He finally let out everything he had been keeping bottled inside about his relationship with Blaine.  
  
"I guess I just get so intimidated by his money," Kurt admitted. "He has so much of it, and we never seem to have enough."  
  
"Didn't we agree that we were going to teach the kids that money wasn't the most important thing?" Dave reminded Kurt.  
  
"I know," Kurt said, twirling spaghettini on his fork. "I believed that then, Dave. But now..."  
  
"It's still not as important as family...and love," Dave pointed out. "It's okay for you to be uncomfortable with him spending money on you, but you also have to understand that he feels differently. You both need to come to some kind of common ground."  
  
Kurt wiped his mouth with his napkin, nodding as he took in Dave's words. He stood, picking up his plate to take it to the kitchen, but Dave stilled his hand.  
  
"Leave it," he said. "I'll take care of this. Just...go see your man...pick up our kids."  
  
Kurt smiled. Dave stood from his seat and walked over to Kurt, stopping him momentarily. He held Kurt by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.  
  
"Kurt," Dave said, his voice affectionately firm, "no one who matters...no one who loves who...has ever thought of you as a whore...never. And if someone out there can't love you for the person you are, then screw them, right?"  
  
Kurt laughed. Once upon a time, Kurt had visited Dave in his hospital bed, and had told him something similar.  
  
Kurt hugged Dave, holding him in his arms close, in a way he hadn't since he had started seeing Blaine. Dave hugged him back, trying to remember what that closeness felt like one last time.  


* * *

  
  
Kurt  changed into a tight white Henley, Blaine's favorite pair of indigo skinny jeans and a new pair of knee high black Doc Martens that Nick had brought over for him. He checked his face in the mirror, noticing dark circles beneath his eyes and red around his nose from crying, but he didn't want to waste time messing with cover up. Blaine loved him. It didn't matter what he looked like.  
  
Kurt's emotions still warred as he drove to Blaine's house. Dave said Blaine had a good reason for not telling him every thing about the house, and that Kurt needed to give Blaine a chance to explain, but he couldn't help feeling a little sore. He had to be true to himself and wonder - was he upset that Blaine was keeping a secret, or that he had actually doubted Blaine for a moment in the face of Sebastian and Mia's accusations? He had to admit that he was angry with himself for trusting them more than he had trusted the man he loved.  
  
Blaine had given Kurt and Dave the pass code to his gate along with a key to the house so that they could come and go as they pleased. Kurt drove up the driveway and parked beside Blaine's car, noticing that Jeff's Audi and Hunter's Lexus were also parked out front, which meant Nick, Jeff, and Hunter were all there. Kurt sighed.  
  
Suddenly a mountain of doubt set in, and the 'what if's' started to surface. He wanted to be with Blaine, but it was more than that. He needed Blaine. Blaine filled a space in Kurt's heart that he always assumed Dave might inevitably someday fill, even though he never truly fit. He knew everytime he looked at Blaine, every time he gazed into those honey colored eyes, that a life with Blaine was his future.  


* * *

  
  
Blaine heard the key in the lock and felt his heart race. Dave had texted to let him know that Kurt was on his way, and he had started counting the minutes until his boyfriend arrived. He heard Kurt's heavy boot steps walk through the foyer. He wanted to rush over to him, take him in his arms, and tell him everything.  
  
Instead, he grabbed a dish towel and started to clean.  
  
"Hey," Kurt said when he spotted Blaine in the kitchen, amused by the image of his boyfriend scrubbing down the kitchen counter, looking a little out of his element.  
  
"Hey," Blaine said with a glance up to meet Kurt's eyes.  
  
Kurt noticed the quiet, and general lack of children.  
  
"Where are the kids?" Kurt asked.  
  
"They're down the hall in the game room with Nick, Jeff, and Hunter." Blaine sprayed down the stove top with 409 and wiped it clean with a dish cloth.  
  
"But all you have in your game room is the billiards table." Kurt blushed, remembering the last time he had been in there with Blaine.  
  
"Hmm," Blaine responded with a sly smile and a blush of his own. He remembered that particular night fondly, too.  
  
"Not anymore," Blaine said. "Nick came by this afternoon while I was at work. He and Jeff re-did the room for me...made it a little more kid friendly..."  
  
Kurt walked to where Blaine scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain. He hopped up onto a stool and watched.  
  
"You know, if you just spray it and let it sit for a bit, that will come right up..." Blaine looked at Kurt briefly, sprayed the offending spot, and then put down his dish towel.  
  
"Also," Kurt continued, "you really should use paper towels. You're just spreading bacteria by reusing that towel."  
  
"Well, doesn't the 409 kill the bacteria when you wipe it up?" Blaine asked with a genuine look of confusion.  
  
"It doesn't work that way," Kurt said with an amused grin. "Don't you have someone who does that for you?"  
  
Blaine shrugged.  
  
"I used to. I kind of liked the idea of doing it myself," Blaine said. "The kids and I," Blaine gestured down the hall,"made burgers for dinner. Then we had cupcakes for dessert."  
  
Kurt looked at the empty plates, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"With frosting?" Kurt asked accusingly. "You fed Eva sugar!? She's going to go off the wall..."  
  
"Relax." Blaine smirked, ripping a paper towel off the roll and attacking the spot again with renewed vigor. "We got the sugar free stuff. Finn said it would be awful...and he was right..." Blaine tossed the towels in the trash and walked out around the island to collect the rest of the dirty dishes and cups.  
  
Kurt watched him as he moved about the room, thoughtfully collecting each item, stacking them together, waiting for whatever it was that Kurt had come to say.  
  
"Why me?" Kurt asked.  
  
"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, picking up the plates and cups and putting them into the sink.  
  
"I mean, why would you do all of this for me?"  
  
"Because, I love you," Blaine said solemnly, not looking up from the plate in his hands, his thumb idoly rubbing a spot of frosting.  
  
"That's all" Kurt chuckled, mockingly.  
  
Blaine looked up, fixing his eyes on Kurt's blue ones.  
  
"You haunt me, Kurt," Blaine almost whispered, moving slowly, as if pulled. "You have since the first moment I saw you. And when I did, I was done. My life as I knew it was over, because all I could see was a future with you."  
  
Kurt scoffed, remembering when they first met, finding it hard to believe that the man that called him a prostitute was, in actuallity, imagining a life with him. He rolled his head to look away from Blaine, but Blaine continued.  
  
"And nothing else mattered - not my career, not the show, not Mia or Sebastian. I would have come out then and there."  
  
"Right," Kurt said sarcastically, nodding.  
  
"The more I got to know you," Blaine went on as if Kurt hadn't spoken, hadn't tried to dismiss what Blaine had just said, "it only got worse. I saw you smile...I heard you laugh, heard you sing...met your kids, and that buffoon you live with..." Blaine smiled warmly thinking about Dave, their recent friendship, their conversation about life, school, Kurt...  "I felt your touch..."  
  
Blaine inched closer. "I held your hand..."  
  
Blaine was right behind Kurt now, his chest to Kurt's back. Blaine nuzzled his nose into the crook of Kurt's neck and heard him take a breath. "I kissed your lips..." He kissed Kurt's neck. "I smelled your skin..." He took in a breath, smelling Kurt's favorite shampoo scent - vanilla and jasmine. "I heard you moan..." Another kiss, this time to the spot right beneath Kurt's ear that always made him a little weak. Blaine lingered for a moment, indulging in the feeling of Kurt's pulse quickening beneath his lips. Blaine reluctantly pulled away. Kurt dropped his head slightly, and Blaine rested his cheek against Kurt's hair. Blaine closed his eyes and let himself linger in everything that was Kurt - the feeling of Kurt's soft hair against his skin; his smell; the sound of Kurt's breathing, long and shuddering slightly.  
  
"I held you while you cried..." Blaine continued, hoping against hope that Kurt would turn and take Blaine in his arms. "You told me the story of your life..." Kurt could feel tears slipping down his cheeks, staining his shirt, but he couldn't move, couldn't think to lift a hand and wipe them away, didn't want to breathe too deeply or move at all and break the spell.  
  
"And all I know is that I want to be a chapter in that story, if you'll let me..."  
  
It was the hanging pause at the end of a sentence...a question waiting for Kurt to answer.  
  
"But none of that..." Kurt said, coughing a little to cover the waver in his voice, "none of that is worth all the things you've given us."  
  
"You're right," Blaine said, "you and you're family are worth far far more."  
  
Kurt blinked his eyes, trying to clear his vision. He turned around slowly, looking at Blaine through his eyelashes. He could see Blaine shift his gaze at Kurt's movement, looking at Kurt hopefully. Kurt took the plates from Blaine's hands and put them carefully down. Then he took Blaine's hands in his own, noticing the frosting on Blaine's thumb. Kurt slowly brought Blaine's hands up to his mouth, watching as Blaine watched him. Blaine sucked in a quick, broken moan as Kurt licked the frosting off of his thumb with one long, purposeful swipe of his tongue. Kurt closed his eyes, feeling the soft, fluffy confection in his mouth, letting it melt on his tongue. Kurt opened his eyes and looked at Blaine thoughtfully.  
  
"Oh my God, Blaine," Kurt said at last, a wicked smile twisting his lips, "that sugar free stuff really is awful."  
  
Blaine chuckled. He leaned in to his boyfriend, brushing his lips gently over Kurt's, then moving down over his jawline.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt whispered as Blaine kissed along his skin. "Could you tell me about the house?"  
  
Blaine sighed, looking into Kurt's sapphire eyes.  
  
"Of course," he smiled. He set the dishes down, wiping his hands clean on a nearby towel, then escorted Kurt to the patio. Blaine sat on a padded chaise lounge, straddling it with one leg over each side, and gestured for Kurt to sit between his legs. Kurt sat, and Blaine put his arms around him, pulling Kurt against him as he told him the story of the house, word for word, the way he had told Dave.  
  
Blaine couldn't see Kurt's face, which made it easier, but he felt Kurt's breathing still, then shudder, then his shoulders shake as he began to cry. Blaine held him close, placing gentle kisses in Kurt's hair as Kurt murmured a quiet chorus of 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you'.  
  
Kurt cried himself to sleep, resting his head on Blaine's chest. Blaine sat up slowly, carefully extracting himself from beneath his boyfriend's body. He covered Kurt in a warm blanket and crept slowly back inside the house.  
  
He went into the game room to find Jeff playing Mario Kart with Barbra and Finn, Nick watching on with Elphaba asleep in his lap, and Hunter working with Eva, putting together some colorful blocks in a specific order. It seemed odd to see the kids without Dave and Kurt, but still, what a strange, adorable family he had accumulated. All those years of having no one, and now here he had a house full of kids and friends. He took a moment to soak it all in.  
  
Nick waved when he noticed Blaine at the door watching them. Eva squealed, grabbing at the air in that way that told Blaine he wasn't leaving the room without giving her a hug. He walked to her and held her tight, taking a moment to recognize that he was the only one she let hold this way, and he wasn't about to take a moment of it for granted.  
  
Blaine called Dave to let him know how things went. Dave sounded relieved. He offered to come by and pick up the kids so that Blaine could spend the night with Kurt. Blaine jumped at the offer, and immediately concocted a plan.

* * *

  
  
  
Kurt felt a chill run up his spine. A breeze shifted his hair into his eyes. As the veil of sleep lifted, he could make out unusual sounds - the loud chirping of crickets, the leaves on the Eucalyptus trees trembling in the breeze. He opened his eyes, fighting against sleep, and remembering he had been sitting out on the patio with Blaine, and that he had fallen asleep.  
  
Apparently, he had kicked off the blanket Blaine had wrapped around him, and now he was shivering in the cold. He bolted up, racing to the house to find Blaine and warmth.  
  
He pulled the blanket around him as he walked through the quiet house. He peeked into the kitchen, but it was empty. No Blaine furiously scrubbing the stove top, no plates and cups littered about. He continued down to the game room, half hoping Blaine would be there in his leather pants and riding crop.  
  
He saw what Blaine meant about re-doing the room. Boy, but this man never did anything in halves. The billiards table was still there, thank goodness, but now a big screen t.v. took up almost one whole wall. Seated in front of it were six bean bag chairs in different colors. Kurt could make out three separate game systems and a slew of games in a cabinet next to the wall.  
  
Kurt continued to scan the room and saw another cabinet with a door open to reveal box after box of board games - Sorry, Risk, Monopoly, Clue, as well as younger kids' games like Candyland, Hi! Ho! Cheerio, and Hungry Hungry Hippos. There were books and blocks and a folded playpen in the corner. There was so much more, but at this point Kurt was overwhelmed and needed to find his boyfriend.  
  
The quiet house felt a little unsettling to Kurt. He made it all the way to the opposite end of the house without bumping into a single person. He folded the blanket and set it aside, preparing to leave, thinking that maybe Blaine had taken the kids to his house and was there now.  
  
A soft strain of music made its way through the house; light and soothing, just barely reaching Kurt's ears. He followed it back the way he came. As he passed the game room again, he noticed rose petals scattered over the floor, marking a trail for him to follow. He realized that Blaine must have followed behind him quietly, laying the petals in his wake, working his way backward.  
  
Kurt also noticed the color of the rose petals - lavender.  
  
Kurt chewed on the tip of his finger, biting back a smile as he walked carefully over the scattered petals, following the trail as well as the music. He could hear Blaine's voice singing a song he thought he recognized, but he was still a distance away, and Blaine's soft tenor was absorbed by the walls and the wooden floors.  
  
Once he could make out the words, the world stopped. He was stuck to the spot where he stood, listening to words he never thought anyone would say to him.  
  
 _"...Every breath,_  
 _every hour has come to this..._  
 _One step closer..._  
 _I have died every day waiting for you,_  
 _Darlin' don't be afraid,_  
 _I have loved you_  
 _For a thousand years,_  
 _I'll love you for a thousand more,_  
 _And all a long I believed I would find you,_  
 _Time has brought your heart to me,_  
 _I have loved you for a thousand years,_  
 _I'll love you for a thousand more..."_  
  
It was this piano interlude that changed the song entirely, made it completely Blaine's love song to Kurt as he ventured away from the written score and inputted something original, something all his own. Kurt was drawn to this music, to this piece from Blaine's heart that he had never heard before.  
  
The path of rose petals decorating the floor swirled in an intricate and planned design of hearts, all pointing to the piano, and for a moment he wondered if Nick had stayed behind to help since he couldn't imagine how Blaine could put this together in the short amount of time he was wandering down the hall.  
  
Kurt didn't know whether or not Blaine had seen him enter the room. Kurt walked across the wood floor - the same wood floor where they had danced that night when Kurt had first dominated him. It seemed so long ago, when Kurt wanted to remember every moment, thinking he would never see Blaine again. Kurt approached the piano, and heard Blaine's voice again.  
  
 _"One step closer..."_  
  
This time, Kurt answered in his own countertenor.  
  
 _"One step closer..."_  
  
Blaine looked up smiling. He nodded at Kurt, eyes raised, silently asking him to sing the next chorus.  
  
 _"I have died every day waiting for you,_  
 _Darlin' don't be afraid,_  
 _I have loved you_  
 _For a thousand years,_  
 _I'll love you for a thousand more..."_  
  
There was a sudden swell of music from beneath Blaine's fingertips. Kurt wanted to stop and listen to Blaine sing, but he somehow needed to hear them once together.  
  
 _"And all a long I believed I would find you,_  
 _Time has brought your heart to me,_  
 _I have loved you for a thousand years,_  
 _I'll love you for a thousand more..."_  
  
The effect of the two of them singing together was so beautiful, so startling, Blaine's eyes went wide, his smile brighter. Kurt caught it right away when Blaine decided to add another chorus.  
  
 _"I have died every day waiting for you,_  
 _Darlin' don't be afraid,_  
 _I have loved you_  
 _For a thousand years,_  
 _I'll love you for a thousand more..._  
 _And all a long I believed I would find you,_  
 _Time has brought your heart to me,_  
 _I have loved you for a thousand years,_  
 _I'll love you for a thousand more..."_  
  
"You're voice is amazing," Blaine said before the final strains had even ended.  
  
"Thank you," Kurt said, "though I'm not quite sure it's anywhere near as incredible as yours."  
  
Blaine chuckled.  
  
"Well, I think I can gather together an entire town full of people who saw you sing on top of a piano who might disagree with that statement."  
  
Kurt giggled as Blaine continued to play - a light, lyrical piece that had no words. It seemed to Kurt to be a continuation of that original piece Blaine had included in the song. Kurt slipped beside Blaine on the piano bench to listen.  
  
Kurt watched Blaine play - how his eyelids fluttered closed and his fingers felt out the music over the keys. He swayed slightly as the music swelled or the rhythm changed. He looked so calm and at peace.  
  
He looked happy.  
  
"Blaine," Kurt sighed. "This is what you should be doing." Blaine opened an eye to look at Kurt.  
  
"It's what I wanted to do when I moved to L.A.," Blaine admitted. "But, I don't know. What if people don't take me seriously? What if I put out an album and it's a tremendous flop?"  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine with an incredulous face.  
  
"May I remind you that Paris Hilton put out an album?"  
  
Blaine chuckled.  
  
"Point taken."  
  
Kurt put his head gently against Blaine's shoulder and noticed the thick jacket he wore. Kurt moved back a little and noticed that Blaine was wearing a tux - an honest to God Armani tuxedo.  
  
"Uh, Blaine?" Kurt looked Blaine over from head to toe to make sure he was wearing the pants as well. "Are we going somewhere, because if so I think I'm woefully under dressed."  
  
Blaine settled his fingers on the keys, listening as the final notes of the piece faded away.  
  
"No," Blaine said, turning to face Kurt. "We've never really talked about that night at the gala."  
  
Kurt ducked his head, biting his lip, not too fond of the memory, but not wanting to interrupt.  
  
"Kurt..." Blaine took Kurt's hands and held them. "I truly, honestly, had every intention of telling the world and God and aliens on other planets all over that you belong to me."  
  
Kurt chuckled.  
  
"I know," Kurt said. "I believe you."  
  
"Well," Blaine continued, standing, bringing Kurt with him to his feet. "I also had the whole evening planned." Blaine walked Kurt to the bedroom.  
  
"And since we never got to spend the night together, I thought I would do a little recreating..."  
  
Blaine pushed the door open.  
  
The first thing Kurt saw was the glow of candlelight coming from the darkened room. The smell of vanilla greeted him as he walked through the door. Kurt's jaw went slack as he looked around the room. Almost every surface was beset with candles - tea candles, pillar candles, scented candles - all throwing small diamond shaped flickers of light. The bed, the floor, dressers were all sprinkled liberally with rose petals. Kurt couldn't imagine where in the world they got so many lavender rose petals at this hour of the night. Kurt could see the bathroom door opened a crack. More candles and more rose petals. Kurt looked over the bed and noticed two conspicuous items - a deep purple blindfold and a brand new looking pair of leather cuffs - on Kurt's side of the bed.  
  
Kurt turned to Blaine, raising an eyebrow. Blaine smiled shyly.  
  
"I have a lot more confidence now then I did then," Blaine said. "Do you trust me?"  
  
Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, syrup colored irises melting to gold.  
  
"Of course I do," Kurt whispered, wrapping his arms around Blaine and kissing him sweetly, feeling Blaine's lips try to dominate the kiss. Kurt let him. Blaine tilted Kurt back, deepening the kiss. Kurt let him take control. This was Blaine's game he was playing. He would let him take the lead.  
  
Maybe he owed him.  
  
Maybe it was just time.  
  
Maybe it was time to put the dominatrix on her knees.  
  
"Undress me," Blaine whispered into Kurt's mouth.  
  
This time, Blaine wasn't asking.  
  
Not breaking the kiss, Kurt began undressing Blaine, slipping the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. He tossed it over the back of a chair in the corner. Kurt's mouth explored Blaine's neck as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly slipping the buttons through the holes with practiced ease. Kurt's tongue danced over Blaine's skin, teasing the sensitive areas that Kurt knew Blaine liked to be kissed.  
  
Soon the shirt joined the jacket. Kurt fell slowly to his knees, eyes locked on Blaine's as he knelt on the floor and untied Blaine's polished patent leather shoes. One shoe, then the other were removed, followed by socks which Kurt rolled slowly down Blaine's calves and pulled off with a flourish, tossing each one playfully over his shoulder. Kurt rose to his feet and turned his attention to the pants. Blaine smiled into Kurt's kisses as Kurt purposefully palmed Blaine through his slacks, feeling his cock grow in his hands as he unzipped the expensive pants and placed them with the rest of the tux. Kurt removed Blaine's undershirt and pulled off Blaine's boxer briefs. When Kurt moved to put his mouth over Blaine's aching cock, Blaine pullled Kurt to his feet with a familiar tutting of his tongue.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes fondly, enjoying the flattery of Blaine imitating his signature taunt. Blaine sat on the bed, only a foot away from where Kurt stood.  
  
"Strip for me," Blaine commanded.  
  
Kurt's eyes went wide, his lips twisting into a devilish smirk.  
  
Kurt turned away from Blaine, bending in half at the waist in order to remove his boots, giving Blaine as nice a view of his ass as he could manage in the tight jeans he wore. He heard Blaine inhale sharply as Kurt slowly unlaced the boots, one at a time, shifting his legs slightly every so often to change Blaine's view. Boots and socks removed, Kurt turned, closing the distance between them. He pulled his shirt up and over his head, removing it inch by sensuous inch, uncovering himself only a bit at a time. He tossed it carelessly on the chair before slowly unbuttoning the fly to his jeans. One button after the other slid suggestively through their button holes under the skillful manipulation of Kurt's fingers. Kurt could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that Blaine enjoyed the show, liked being teased by Kurt sliding the tight fabric over his skin, revealing creamy, pale skin; strong, muscular thighs; and his taut, firm ass.  
  
Of course, Kurt wasn't wearing any underwear.  
  
Blaine grabbed Kurt as soon as he jeans were tossed, pinning his arms behind his back and taking Kurt's cock into his mouth. Kurt shuddered, legs wobbling as Blaine's tight, hot, perfect mouth surrounded him, sucking with purpose.  
  
It was all a clever distraction, Kurt realized, when he felt his arms pulled behind his back and locked together at the wrists.

"Hey," Kurt whined jokingly. Blaine removed his mouth from Kurt's cock and stood.

"Now, now," Blaine said, turning Kurt to the bed and settling him down onto it, carefully negotiating Kurt's bound wrists. "I'm going to take away your sight. If you're not careful, I'll take away some other things. You don't need to talk, either, you know."

Kurt bit his lip with a playful smile as Blaine climbed over him and tied the blindfold over Kurt's eyes.

Kurt had never been blindfolded in his life, though he had done it many times to other people. Kurt marveled at how losing his sight seemed to heighten every other sense. The only things that mattered in that moment were the comfortable weight of Blaine's body straddling Kurt's hips, Blaine's lips traveling all over his skin, and the warm slide of Blaine's cock as it slotted against Kurt's.

Kurt realized that Blaine didn't ask Kurt to do anything other than enjoy being under him, taking away his ability to see so he could focus on feeling Blaine's body against his, with out any need or ability to reciprocate.

Being vulnerable like this, putting his faith in Blaine's hands, made Kurt feel oddly beautiful, desired, cared for. The heady feeling washed over him, made him flush with color. He felt the heat as it rushed along his skin.

"How beautiful is my black swan?" Blaine murmured, as his lips brushed over one of Kurt's nipples, causing him to jolt at the delicious contact. "How gorgeous is my angel?"

Kurt squirmed beneath Blaine's words, his soft, sultry voice followed by kisses Kurt could not predict - a nibble of his lower lip, a tongue swirling slowly around his belly button, a gentle press to the pulse on his neck, a long stripe painted along his cock from base to head. Blaine licked around Kurt's ankle bone. Kurt jerked, bending his knee in surprise at the intense pleasure. Blaine chuckled, holding Kurt's leg down as he did it again, watching in awe as the pale skin dominatrix writhed at his touch, lips parted, breathing heavy, cock twitching with every slow lick.

Blaine ran his tongue up the side of Kurt's leg to the back of his knee, where he stopped to lick in slow circles again.

This earned Blaine a high pitched whine.

"Blaine!" Kurt moaned.

"Shhh," Blaine chastised, moving up Kurt's body to attack his mouth with tender kisses and small bites of his plump, pink lips. "Now, now. None of that, or I'll absolutely need to find a way to keep you quiet."

Kurt nodded, trembling at the sure sound of Blaine's sultry voice. Kurt sighed, willing himself to relax. Blaine moved up to Kurt's ear, nibbling at his earlobe as he sucked it into his mouth.

"None of that, either," Blaine whispered. "I want you to fight me...just not too much."

Kurt smiled. He was beginning to understand what Blaine liked, and it wasn't total submission. It was the struggle, feeling Kurt's body writhe beneath him as Blaine fought to keep him still, hearing Kurt whimper as Blaine admonished him to keep quiet, threatening Kurt gently with punishment he may or may not dole out.

Blaine didn't need to tell him to fight. Try as he might, Kurt's body would not behave under the assault of Blaine's mouth and his tongue. Kurt bit his lip so many times as he tried to stifle his own whimpering, he was sure it was about to bleed. Blaine seemed to be everywhere over him - his palms caressing his ass as Blaine sank his mouth over Kurt's cock once again, pulling him in thrust after thrust with his hands moving Kurt's hips; Blaine bringing Kurt nearly to completion by sucking on Kurt's nipples one after the other, quickly licking around each with his tongue; Blaine lavishing attention to the backs of both knees, his curly hair tickling Kurt's thighs as he struggled to stay still.

Blaine carefully rolled Kurt over onto his stomach, and with no warning, attacked Kurt's tight entrance with his tongue. Now Kurt simply couldn't keep quiet, and when he moaned too loudly, Blaine bit him hard on the swell of his cheek. Kurt yelped, biting down on a pillow to stifle his groaning as Blaine spread him again and licked him slowly - much more slowly than when Blaine did this the first time. Every pass with Blaine's tongue sent sparks that started from Kurt's cock and spread out like a star burst shooting down his limbs. Over and over those sparks flew as Blaine's tongue continued to lick, one slow drag after the other. Kurt wanted Blaine in him desperately, but he didn't want this torture to end. He craved Blaine, but right now he wanted Blaine's control over his body.

Blaine pressed against him, dipping his tongue into his hole with shallow thrusts as he let his hands wander, his fingertips brushing lightly over Kurt's skin. When the tingle from Blaine's fingertips and the electricity from Blaine's slow thrusts met, Kurt arched his back and keened, unable to fight his own moaning.

"I need you, Blaine," Kurt gasped into the darkness. "Please, I need you."

Kurt's words went straight through Blaine's body, straight to his heart.

Kurt didn't say he wanted him. Didn't say he loved him.

He said he needed him.

Blaine slid up beside Kurt.

"What do you need, baby?" he asked Kurt sweetly. Kurt smiled.

"I need you, Blaine," Kurt replied. "I need you to make love to me."

Blaine kissed Kurt slowly.

"Your wish is my command, beautiful," Blaine said.

Blaine helped Kurt to his knees, unwilling to unbind his wrists or take off his blindfold. Blaine took a bottle of lube from his night stand and quickly spread the thick liquid over his own cock. He didn't stretch Kurt with his fingers, knowing Kurt preferred to be stretched slowly over his cock.

This angle was perfect for entering Kurt, but it took an amazing amount of patience to do it correctly. Blaine didn't want to hurt Kurt. He knew Kurt could take it if he accidentally did. Kurt was the epitome of strength, more so than anyone Blaine had ever met. That didn't mean he ever wanted to hurt him.

Not unless Kurt wanted him to. Not unless Kurt gave him permission.

Blaine could play all the games he wanted with Kurt, but Blaine was still his sub, and always would be.

Blaine needed this moment to be perfect for Kurt.

Blaine entered Kurt slowly, holding Kurt's hips steady as he moved, breaching the tight ring of Kurt's muscle and taking a few hesitant, shallow thrusts, barely even entering him with the whole head of his cock.

Kurt moaned at the feeling of Blaine's self control, his slow stretch around him, and the mind numbing burn of his own muscles as they fought to keep him hovering just barely over Blaine's lap.

Inch by slow inch Blaine moved, watching the muscles of Kurt's back quiver, feeling the slight tremble of Kurt's thighs against his own. Forward he would move until he felt Kurt stiffen, then pull back to give Kurt time to adjust, then in again slowly, just a little farther each time. Back and forth this dance went on until Blaine pulled Kurt the final few inches into his lap, wrapping his arms around Kurt's body as Kurt sat flush against him.

"There you are," Blaine whispered. "That's where you belong."

Kurt rolled his head back onto Blaine's shoulder, letting him hold Kurt as long as he wanted. Blaine was right. Wrapped in his arms was exactly where Kurt belonged. That's the place that felt like home.

It took a long time before Blaine could convince his body to move, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in Kurt's heat, never wanting that feeling to end. His need to pleasure Kurt far outweighed his own, and Blaine moved, dragging in and out of Kurt's body, setting a slow but steady pace.

Blaine didn't wrap his hand around Kurt's cock right away, even though he knew it was aching to be touched. Instead, he let his hands travel along Kurt's skin, mapping out the definition of his muscles, playing across the tight nubs of his nipples, massaging over Kurt's strong thighs and kneading at Kurt's shoulders.

Wrapped up in darkness and unable to free his hands, Kurt absorbed all of Blaine's strokes and touches, imagined Blaine's tan skin blazing a trail over his body, Blaine biting his own pink bottom lip, Blaine straining to slide gently in and out of Kurt, bucking up a little harder every once in a while to brush that spot within Kurt that made him quiver and moan.

The sound of Kurt's moaning was a special reward to Blaine. He coveted it, along with the feeling of Kurt tightening around him when Blaine slid into him perfectly. Blaine wanted to capture this moment and keep it, everything about it - Kurt's alluring scent mixed with his own, Kurt's smooth skin against Blaine's rougher skin, Kurt's hair tickling Blaine's face as he licked delicate circles over his shoulders, and Kurt's breathy gasps as Blaine bucked up beneath him and set him on fire.

Blaine knew just what to do to ignite Kurt, and also what to do to keep him at a slow simmer.

But now Blaine wanted the fire. He wanted to light Kurt up and feel him burn.

Blaine wrapped his fingers around Kurt's cock and held him, squeezing gently as he started to pound, letting Kurt fall forward into his hand with every upward thrust.

"That's it, beautiful," Blaine urged as he moved smoothly and swiftly in and out of Kurt's body, Kurt surrounding him with his heat, clenching around him with his fire. "There you are, baby," Blaine whispered as he found Kurt's special spot again and again. "Let me hear you. Show me how much you like it."

Kurt's head rolled on his shoulders, biting his lip against a moan that had no intention of being silenced. Without his sight and without his hands, he felt like he had no control. Everything he felt came from Blaine, and Blaine seemed to know how to play him.

Kurt could feel the heat from Blaine inside him spiraling, gathering deep within, ready to explode. Blaine smiled against his shoulder as he brought him closer, coaxed the fire out of him. Kurt couldn't see him, but he could hear him whispering in his ears. Those words tumbled from his lips, rolled over his skin, scorching everywhere they touched.

"My beautiful black swan...all tied up for me...can you feel what you make me do?"

Blaine's teeth bit gently into Kurt's skin. Blaine left a trail from shoulder to shoulder. He started to pump Kurt slowly, not even trying to match his thrusts, just enjoying the languid slide over Kurt's skin.

"You're gorgeous, Kurt..." Blaine continued. "You're gorgeous, and you're mine. Remember that, Kurt. You belong to me."

Kurt knew in theory the effects praise had on subs, but he'd never really felt those effects until now, when he was tied up and at Blaine's mercy. But Blaine was being gentle with him.

"We..." Kurt stuttered, "we belong...to each other, Blaine."

"Always?" Blaine whispered. It was an unusual shift in his demeanor, but there it was. The sub in Blaine, rising to the surface, begging for acceptance.

"As long as you'll have me," Kurt reassured him.

Blaine undid the blindfold with one hand, letting it fall from Kurt's eyes. He pushed gently on the back of Kurt's head, ducking it down toward his chest as far as he could comfortably go.

"Open your eyes, baby," Blaine prompted. "Watch me make you cum."

Kurt blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the light. Kurt watched Blaine's hand slide slowly over his cock, watching Blaine's dark fingers on his pale skin. Kurt moaned at the sight, bucking his hips slightly to watch the head of his cock breach through the hold of his fist, connecting the tingles in his body with the movement of Blaine's hand.

"Nngh...oh, Blaine..." Kurt bucked up faster, feeling Blaine follow with his own thrusts behind. Blaine's relentless assaults were perfection, but added to that the view of his own cock caressed by this strong man's hands, it all became too much, and Kurt knew he was going to cum.

Blaine could feel Kurt's hips begin to convulse, felt him squeeze around him.

"That's it," he whispered. "Cum for me, Kurt. Fall for me, and I'll catch you."

Kurt had never really paid much attention to the reaction of his own body when he came. He always knew when it was about to happen, always pinpointed the moment his orgasm was about to wash over him. He was always much more attuned to the needs of others, though, which left no time to think about himself.

Now, he could see it. He could see that moment when the muscles in his legs and stomach tightened, watched his hips stutter as his limbs filled with an undeniable crackle of energy. He focused on the blood that was swiftly draining from his head, making him a little dizzy. That moment when it all came together, when his whole body wound around itself like a spring and then released, energy spiraling out through his body like a roller coasted, he came. He watched with an erotic fascination as he spilled white over Blaine's dark fist, his eyes fixed to the sure movements of Blaine's hand pumping him slowly through his orgasm.

"Oh, Kurt..."

The sight of Kurt watching Blaine bring him to orgasm, watching himself cum over his fist, pushed Blaine to the limit. He bit down on Kurt's shoulder hard as he came inside his boyfriend's incredible body. Blaine knew he was marking his boyfriend, biting down harder than he normally would.

Kurt smiled and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the sweet sting of it.

It was about time Blaine left his mark.

Kurt couldn't wait to come down from his incredible orgasm before he spoke.

"Where did that come from?" Kurt asked breathlessly as Blaine wiped his hand on the blindfold and tossed it away. Then he wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him, reluctant to leave his body.

"From you," Blaine panted. "I never had that inside me. You put it there."

Kurt sighed against Blaine, leaning back to place a small kiss on Blaine's temple.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said. "With all my heart, I love you."

Blaine smiled, holding tight to his dom, his lover, his Kurt.

"I love you, too, Kurt Hummel," Blaine whispered. "With all my heart, I love you."

Connected together, on a bed of lavender rose petals, surrounded by a quiet symphony of flickering flames, it sounded almost like a vow.

  
  


* * *

  
Blaine unlocked Kurt's cuffs, and led him to the bathroom. Blaine drew Kurt a hot bath, and sat Kurt inside, kneeling beside the tub to wash him carefully while the water filled the tub. Kurt grabbed his hand, pulling at his wrist gently, looking over him with quietly pleading eyes. Blaine stepped inside the over sized tub and settled between Kurt's legs, resting his head against his chest.  
  
On the brink of succumbing to exhaustion, both men washed each other, wrestling with sleep and the allure of the warm water to finish with the bath before the decision whether or not to sleep was made for them.  
  
It was Kurt who ultimately rinsed their bodies of the soothing bath oil, dried them up, and get them under the covers. He wrapped his arms around his sleeping boyfriend and held him close.  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"I definitely think I'm going to marry you someday, Blaine Anderson," Kurt confessed into the dark, smiling as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Facing away from him in the dark, Blaine smiled, too.  


* * *

  
  
The next morning, Kurt woke to the sound of his iPhone chirping. Thinking it was Dave, he grabbed it quickly, preparing to spring out of bed and head home, even though he couldn't remember anything specific planned for the day.  
  
The text was from a number he never expected to see again, a part of his life that he had left behind a long time ago. Former fairy godmother and Vogue. com editor Isabelle Wright had sent him a picture message. Kurt nearly fumbled and dropped his phone in his rush to open the message.  
  
 _'Look what Anna messaged me from upstairs. You've been holding out on me ;)'_  
  
Kurt watched the message finish loading and saw a familiar photo. It was the picture Kurt had taken of Blaine in his bedroom the other night. There was Blaine, posed like a God in front of those sheer curtains. But, how did Isabelle get a hold of it? The phone chirped again. Another picture message. He opened it, cursing as his iPhone took its sweet time loading the image. This time Kurt could see the photo was actually part of a screen shot from Isabelle's tablet. Kurt could see the photo and the name of the website - a popular gossip site he'd been on himself once or twice. He couldn't make out anything else in the blurry picture. Kurt immediately opened a browser window and accessed the website, biting his lip as he waited for the first page to load. He wondered how he was going to find the photo in the sea of articles.  
  
He didn't need to wonder. It was the first thing that loaded on the page.  
  
He saw the picture of his sexy boyfriend. As he scrolled down he saw another photo, this one of himself from the gala, dressed in the suit he had designed. Kurt scrolled down further until he found the caption.  
  
 _"Hot, hot, hot! Blaine Anderson seen in this photo dressed to kill in a retro glam boy out fit by up and coming Los Angeles based designer Kurt Hummel (pictured below, also wearing one of his own original designs). Rumors abound that this hot new designer is doing more than dressing up the sexy Sing star."_  
  
Kurt was shocked. His mouth hung open comically as he stared at the screen.  
  
His phone chirped again.  
  
 _'I thought us Ohio-ans were supposed to stick together. :('_  
  
Kurt opened the next message in awe.  
  
 _'Anna's words, and I quote, "Get him back. I don't care what it takes".'_  
  
Kurt giggled, trying to make sense of what all this might mean.  
  
 _'I know you're married to California, so how about some freelance? Maybe give me the scoop on Kurt Hummel designs? Pllleeeeaaaasssseee call me. XO'_  
  
When Kurt came to from the shock, he looked over to Blaine's side of the bed where Blaine appeared to be conspicuously absent.  
  
Kurt threw on a robe and padded out the door.  
  
"Blaine!" Kurt called out, knowing his boyfriend had to be behind the leaked photograph. "Blaine!"  
  
Kurt could hear the game room television, and made a bee line in that direction. He pushed open the door and saw Blaine standing in front of the t.v., mouth slightly agape himself as he flipped channels. Blaine looked surprised, but his smile was undeniable.  
  
"Blaine!" Kurt said in a stern voice as he approached his boyfriend. He held up his phone with the gossip site still on the screen displaying what Kurt thought would be a private boudoir photograph.  
  
"I know you had something to do with this."  
  
Kurt couldn't help smirking. How could he be mad? Any press was good press after all. He might even get a little notoriety from this. Since he wanted to be a designer in Hollywood anyway, this might be a good stepping off point.  
  
He got a little annoyed when it seemed his boyfriend wasn't paying any attention to him. Kurt reached out for the remote to the t.v. He turned as Blaine continued to flip, his mouth falling further in shock to see the same shot from the website, big as day, on every single channel.  
  
Kurt and Blaine turned to each other, eyes wide, matching expressions on their faces.  
  
Kurt's stepping off point had just turned into a cannonball of epic proportions.  
  
Then, Blaine's cell phone began to ring.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N:** _I'm sorry it has taken so long to update this one. I pro_ _mise to do better. I have been busy writing a Kurtbastian fanfic for a friend of mine called Deliver Me. It's a suspense/mystery story. So if you're a closet Kurtbastian fan, or you're interested in reading a story where Sebastian isn't necessarily a conceited a**hole, give it a whirl ;) Otherwise, here's a little fluff, a little sex, and a possible romantic storyline for poor neglected Dave :) I hope you enjoy... thanks for hanging on..._

 

Kurt's cell phone rang at the same time.  
  
Blaine picked up his iPhone and answered the call coming in from Nick.  
  
"Oh my God!" Nick squealed before Blaine even said hello. "Did you see it?"  
  
"How can I not?" Blaine asked. "It's all over the place!"  
  
Nick giggled.  
  
"Hey Dave!" Kurt said into his own phone. "Yeah, I'm looking at it right now!"  
  
Blaine moved away from his boyfriend so he could talk to Nick more privately.  
  
"Just how many people did you forward those pictures to?" Blaine asked, eyes darting to Kurt to see if he was listening. Kurt appeared to be completely absorbed in his conversation with Dave.  
  
"Oh...well...I wanted to be sure it would get picked up," Nick stammered,"so I pretty much sent it to...my contact list?"  
  
Nick's voice drifted away as he said it.  
  
Blaine's eyes went wide.  
  
"Aren't Brad...and Seb...and Mia on your contact list, Nick!?"  
  
He heard Nick cluck in disgust.  
  
"Blaine," Nick retorted, "I'm not that dense. I didn't send it to my mom or dad, either, you know."  
  
Blaine chuckled at the image of Mr. and Mrs. Duval opening a picture message from their son and seeing the picture of Blaine in the pleather pants and the red fur jacket, posing seductively.  
  
"Okay," Blaine said. "I gotcha. Thanks, man. If you need anything..."  
  
"Tell me how he pays you back," Nick rushed before hanging up the phone.  
  
 _'Ah,'_ Blaine thought. _'From mild mannered shopping maven to BDSM sex fiend. Where did cute little Nicky go?'_  
  
Blaine felt a hand snake around his waist, warm breath on his neck as soft, sinful lips played with his earlobe.  
  
"I know you had something to do with this," Kurt reiterated, reaching down into Blaine's sleep pants to wrap delicate fingers around his half-hard cock.  
  
"Technically, I didn't send it to anyone but Nick," Blaine confessed. "Though I may have mentioned that showing it around couldn't hurt."  
  
"Blaine," Kurt whined.  
  
Blaine turned reluctantly in Kurt's embrace, not eager to remove his cock from Kurt's talented grasp.  
  
"Kurt, I just wanted everyone to see how talented you are."  
  
"They would have when they saw the clothes I'm making for you." Kurt pulled Blaine close.  
  
"I know," Blaine said. "But I also think I'm beginning to know you...and me..."  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I know you don't want to work for me," Blaine explained. "Not for too long. Besides, you're going to get bored with plain vanilla suits after a while." Blaine pointed at the screen, the channel showing a repeat of the previous gossip show, and flashing another photo of Blaine in the exotic red outfit. "That's who you are, Kurt. Unique and larger than life. Your designs belong on a runway, not just on me."  
  
Kurt smiled at Blaine, reaching a hand up to run his fingers through Blaine's hair.  
  
"And what is this new revelation about you?" Kurt asked. Blaine leaned into the touch of Kurt's hand, shutting his eyes as he chased the soft skin.  
  
"That I don't like what I'm doing with my life," Blaine confessed. Blaine opened his eyes to look at Kurt seriously. "I need a change...and soon."  
  
Kurt's face fell, not quite understanding everything Blaine's meaning. Blaine pulled Kurt into his arms, spinning him around the floor.  
  
"You, and Dave, and the kids stay." Blaine led them around slowly. He squinted one eye thoughtfully. "Everything good stays. But the rest of it..." He spun Kurt out, and then pulled him back in quickly, gathering him in his arms and dipping him low. "The rest of it...has got to go."

* * *

  
  
"Yes, Lucy...I...yes, I hear you..." Blaine walked through Kurt's house, iPhone lodged between his head and his shoulder as he wrote down details of the dress that Lucy Bale was hoping Kurt could design. He came up behind Kurt, sitting at the dining room table with a calendar open in front of him, writing the details of another appointment in one of the boxes.  
  
"Yes, Isabelle," Kurt said as he jotted down a few more notes, "I'll email you the design sketches as soon as I get off the phone with you...and a picture of the house...and the kids....I miss you so much, too. I can't believe I get to see you next week!"  
  
"Let me check, Luce." Blaine put his finger down on a box on the calendar, silently asking Kurt if he had that day and time free. Kurt shook his head, and moved Blaine's finger to the next box at the same time. "How about Wednesday at four?" Blaine asked. "Great! I'll let him know. Bye, Luce."  
  
Blaine hung up his iPhone and put it on the table along with the notes, dropping into the chair beside Kurt. Almost immediately his phone rang again. He looked at the screen.  
  
"Ugh! Lucy again." Blaine groaned, picking up the phone and shoving it under a chair cushion to muffle the ringing. "You'll see him on Wednesday!" he barked at the ringing cushion. "Go to voicemail!"  
  
Kurt chuckled as he said good bye to Isabelle and hung up his own phone.  
  
He leaned against the wood backing of the chair and turned his head to look at Blaine. Blaine rolled his head back on the chair, eyes scanning the ceiling.  
  
"How many is that?" Blaine asked, referring to the phone calls that had come in since the photo aired earlier that morning.  
  
"Uh..." Kurt looked at his calendar and counted. "Six, including Lucy, but not including Isabelle, who's coming out next Friday." Kurt sat up straight and got a superior look. "Looks like I'll be doing some freelance work for Vogue."  
  
"Really?" Blaine's bright smile lit up his face as he looked at Kurt. "That's amazing, Kurt!"  
  
"I know." Kurt sighed. "It's like a dream." Kurt's eyes softened as he took his boyfriend's hand. "Since the day I stepped into this house, Blaine, I feel like I can do anything...and I don't want it to end."  
  
Blaine brought Kurt's hand up to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles.  
  
"It doesn't have to," Blaine said. "No one deserves it more than you."  
  
Kurt watched Blaine as he slowly placed a trail of kisses along the back of his hand, moving over his wrist to place an open-mouthed kiss in that sensitive spot. Kurt breathed in deep and closed his eyes.  
  
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt sighed. "Not now. With everyone home?"  
  
Blaine didn't stop, traveling up Kurt's arm, licking circles over the alabaster skin.  
  
"I can't help it," Blaine murmured. "I'm in love with a sexy, hot, designer. It's kind of a turn on."  
  
Blaine moved in closer as he reached Kurt's shoulder to lay claim to his neck, sucking lightly at a spot that Blaine knew would curl his toes.  
  
"Mmm, Blaine," Kurt whispered. "Don't you think we should go see what Nick and Jeff are doing in the studio?"  
  
"They're probably doing the same thing we are." Blaine chuckled wickedly.  
  
Blaine almost climbed in Kurt's lap, sucking greedily at his pale skin until a purple bruise bloomed. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and moaned softly.  
  
"Yeah, and they have a door that locks." Kurt's eyes rolled as Blaine sucked harder. "Lucky bastards."  
  
"Don't worry," Blaine muttered between kisses and sucks. "I told Nick to order a futon for that space."  
  
Kurt chuckled.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yup," Blaine said, moving to the other side of Kurt's neck. "I think that sex in your studio might be pretty cool."  
  
A soft knock on the wall broke the spell of Blaine's sinful lips on Kurt's heated skin. Both men looked up to see a large hand bending around the side, and then a single hazel eye peeking from around the corner.  
  
"Is it safe to come into this completely open and not-private dining room," Dave teased, "or should I give you guys another minute?"  
  
Blaine laughed, moving from Kurt's lap back to his seat, retrieving his phone now that it had stopped ringing. He looked at the screen to notice that nine calls had gone to voicemail.  
  
"Ugh!" Blaine exclaimed, showing the screen to Kurt who laughed, noticing that at least four of the calls were from Lucy Bale.  
  
"What's up, Dave?" Kurt asked as the man walked in, dressed in a new dark blue polo and grey slacks. Kurt looked him up and down, nodding with approval.  
  
"Very sharp, Dave," Blaine said, mirroring Kurt's expression.  
  
"Yeah, uh, Thad just called," Dave explained, stepping further into the room. "He says there's some special orientation over at the university for the internship program, and I need to be there in an hour. Is it alright..."  
  
"Go, Dave," Kurt said, waving him away with a smile. "We're good here."  
  
"Really?" Dave's face lit up. Kurt could see how excited he was about going back to school, especially one with as prestigious a sports management program as CSULB.  
  
"Yes, Dave. This is important, so run along."  
  
"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "We've got the kids. It's all good."  
  
Kurt's brow furrowed.  
  
"You're not filming today?" Kurt remembered Blaine telling him that he would be filming all week.  
  
Blaine turned and looked at his boyfriend.  
  
"Apparently not," Blaine said. "Between Lucy's ninety calls I got a message from the studio. They're doing re-writes." Blaine shrugged. "They told me not to come in today."  
  
Blaine secretly hoped that re-writes meant Brad had gotten pissed enough to write him off the show.  
  
Kurt's face brightened, a devious smile twisting his lips.  
  
"Well, okay then," Kurt said.  
  
Blaine's phone rang again and he groaned. Not even looking at the screen, he handed the phone to Kurt.  
  
"Kurt, if you love me at all, even the tiniest bit, could you PLEASE talk to Lucy about this PCA dress before she gives birth to kittens?"  
  
Dave snickered as he waved to the couple and made his way to the door.  
  
Kurt took Blaine's phone and answered.  
  
"Lucy, sweetheart, why don't you just come over now and we'll get you taken care of, okay?" Kurt walked in the direction of the patio doors and peeked through the glass to see how Nick and Jeff were coming along.  Blaine followed behind Kurt and watched him from a distance, soothing the nerves of one of the most high maintenance young actresses in Hollywood...and apparently succeeding.  
  
Kurt listened to Lucy ramble on about her idea for a dress, nodding and contributing the occasional "Aha" to the conversation, but his attention was focused on the smaller building outside. All of a sudden, Blaine saw Kurt's eyes go wide, then a huge smile spread across his lips. He raised a hand to his face, his cheeks glowing red. Blaine didn't know what Lucy said that could elicit that sort of reaction from Kurt, but Blaine imagined it must be good if it could make his black swan blush.  
  
"Yes, dear," Kurt said, stifling a chuckle and shaking his head. "Come right over. I'll be waiting. A bientot."  
  
Kurt hung up the phone, eyes still peeled on something out the window. Kurt heard Blaine approach and turned to see his boyfriend strutting over, wearing his patented sexy smirk.  
  
"It seems that you have managed to soothe the savage beast." Blaine reached for his phone, which Kurt handed over to him.  
  
"Yeah." Kurt chuckled. Blaine took Kurt in his arms, planting an obvious hand on his ass.  
  
"So, should we go out and see how Nick and Jeff are getting along?"  
  
"Uh," Kurt laughed, darting his eyes out the window to the studio space where the men were working. "Let's give them five more minutes."  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt for a second, scanning his playful blue eyes, then rolled his own hazel ones to the ceiling.  
  
"Oh, God!" Blaine exclaimed with a sigh. "Not again?"  
  
Kurt buried his head in Blaine's shoulder while he laughed.  
  
"Yes, again." Kurt shook his head. "I think it's kind of cute...but I'm getting the carpets cleaned."

* * *

  
  
Blaine opted in the end to have the carpets replaced. Kurt almost died, trying to discuss paint colors and fabric options with Nick, whose hair stuck up in nearly all directions, resisting any and all attempts Kurt made to help tame it. Meanwhile, a dazed and dopey looking Jeff vigorously cleaned the windows to sprakling while sporting a brand new batch of painful looking marks along his neck.  
  
Kurt made a mental note to have a long conversation with his new protege about technique and impulse control. He was afraid that someday an over-enthusiastic Nick might actually hurt Jeff. In Nick's defense, it didn't seem like Jeff would mind.  
  
In some ways, Blaine seemed more excited about Kurt's studio than Kurt did. Kurt thought that Blaine might be living vicariously through him, seeing as this space was originally going to be his recording studio. Nick had callled a contractor to consult with them over the project. Kurt looked over the blueprints that Nick had helped draw. Kurt's eyes swept over the plans to turn this cramped mother-in-law cottage into a full-fledged design studio. He looked at his bubbly friend in awe. Kurt had never realized the full extent of Nick's talent.  
  
What was once a living room would become Kurt's main work space, decorated entirely in crimson, cream and gold with black accents, to emphasize Kurt's dominatrix persona while still managing to come across as hip and classy all at the same time. Nick requested that Kurt give him copies of some of his sketches so that he could transfer them to parchment paper, frame them, and hang them on the walls. That way the designs would look aged and chic. Nick ordered a multitude of dress forms, two cutting tables, a drawing table, even a custom made stained glass window that said 'Hummel Designs' in soldered pewter. He even made plans to turn the private bathroom into one that clients could use.  
  
Nick pointed out that the cottage had two bedrooms, one which he assumed would be Kurt's private work space with his sewing machines (Nick made a point of saying machines plural) and other work implements that customers and clients wouldn't need to see. Nick couldn't think of any plans for the other bedroom. Kurt bit his lip and then leaned into Nick's ear, whispering quietly so only Nick could hear. Blaine saw Nick's lips curl into a grin as he nodded, meeting Kurt's eyes and giving him an obvious wink.  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes fondly at the pair.  
  
As Nick talked over the design with Kurt, Lucy showed up for her fitting. Kurt excused himself. Nick's face blanched a little as he watched Kurt leave.  
  
"Uh, Kurt," Nick said, and Kurt knew that the next words out of his mouth would have something to do with money - not because these other men, used to living the Hollywood lifestyle, cared a lick about money, but because it was always an issue with Kurt. Nick expected Kurt to give him a budget and ask him to stay under it, or to tell him to make sure all the invoices went to him.  
  
Kurt only smiled.  
  
"The gentleman over there with the fine ass is spending the money," Kurt said with a wink, motioning to Blaine. "If it's okay with him, it's fine with me."  
  
Blaine clapped his hands under his chin with an unmanly squeal and a ridiculous grin on his face. Nick bounced on the balls of his feet and went back to his blueprints. Hand hovering over the door knob, Kurt turned quickly back and leaned into Nick's ear again.  
  
"Except the small bedroom," Kurt whispered. "Tell Blaine nothing and send the invoice to me. And Nick..." Nick looked into Kurt's blue eyes.  
  
"Spare no expense."  
  
Nick's face glowed as he hugged Kurt tight.  
  
"Oh, Kurt..." Nick said with a sigh. "I feel like I've waited forever to hear you say those words."

* * *

  
  
Dave was excited to be in school again, but he still felt a tad out of his depth. Sure adults went back to college all the time. He already had several years under his belt. But looking at all the young faces that turned toward him when he walked into the classroom five minutes late, he felt like he had skipped memories of the last college he attended and landed straight back in high school.  
  
The professor's head snapped up, ready to bark at the discourteous creatine who had dared to show up late, but when he saw Dave's face, he smiled warmly instead. Dave Karofsky, whom he had been introduced to personally, legacy quaedam of one of the school's most generous benefactors, not to mention personal friend of the famous Blaine Anderson, could arrive late whenever he wanted.  
  
Dave's face went pale as he noticed all those eyes looking at him blankly, judging him. Today more than ever he thanked God that he had taken Kurt up on his offer to help him buy a new wardrobe for school. Dave tried to avoid eye contact with the other students as he walked toward the circle of chairs where everyone sat. Weighted down by an armful of awkward books he had just purchased from the student store, he sat in the only seat available. Dave could tell by the glances in his direction, and the whispers hidden behind hands, that some of the students had already heard something about him. He managed to catch the name 'Blaine Anderson' a few times.  
  
Dave felt one set of eyes in particular staring at him, almost burning into the back of his skull, but he couldn't bring himself to turn and look.  
  
Dave tried hard to pay attention to the professor as the man with the salt-and-pepper hair talked over the syllabus. Dave couldn't help let his mind wander a bit. Despite the initial discomfort, he couldn't believe he was following his dream.  
  
The professor had the students do the cliche 'tell us your name and everything about yourself' thing. Dave cringed. What was he going to say? He listened as the other co-eds tried to outdo each other: an impressive internship here, work experience there, drop a name, originally accepted to this or that school but didn't go. Dave looked from face to face politely, but the feeling of someone staring at him became overwhelming. Dave tried to do his best to act subtle when he shifted his eyes slightly and caught the gaze of beautiful blue eyes trained in his direction, unblinking, accompanied by a warm smile and an expression that had both intense curiosity and, Dave was surprised to discover, a touch of heat.  
  
Dave took one more surreptitious glance to study the face attached to the expression. Blue eyes, lighter than Kurt's, more like the sky where as Kurt's eyes always reminded Dave of the sea. Pale skin, a little like Kurt's but not quite as delicate. Whoever this man was didn't fear the sun the way Kurt did.  
  
Dave had to stop himself for a moment before he continued.  
  
He had to stop comparing him to Kurt.  
  
One more glance.  
  
Dirty blond hair tamed beneath a grey knit beanie and perfect pink lips curving into a grin that seemed to get wider with every quick dart of Dave's eyes.  
  
Dave could be mistaken. He was sitting in front of the black board. Maybe the man was actually staring passed him at something written there. Dave couldn't remember seeing anything on the blackboard when he walked in, but he didn't have the nerve to turn his head and find out.  
  
Dave burned with curiosity. He remembered something that Kurt had told him a long time ago. Shortly after moving in together, they had broached the subject of 'dating'. At the time, Dave wanted to feel out whether or not Kurt might be interested in dating him, but Kurt never caught on. Instead, he gave Dave all sorts of pointers on how to figure out if a guy is interested or not.  
  
Kurt said that when he thought a man was staring at him, he would pretend to yawn. Yawns are notoriously contagious. Dave screwed up his courage, thinking of all the yawn inducing thoughts he could muster (four thoughts - each one an image of his kids yawning). He found himself yawning and politely hid his mouth behind his hand. His eyes flicked up for a moment to catch the blond-haired man shift his eyes a little before he began to yawn as well.  
  
Dave smiled, ducking his head bashfully as the man with the sky blue eyes laughed out loud.  
  
Dave had missed the last five introductions, fascinated by this man who wouldn't stop staring at him. He didn't know whether to feel flattered or self-conscious.  
  
Soon the professor was standing behind the blond man's chair, resting both hands on his shoulders.  
  
"This is Adam Crawford, a transfer student from abroad. He is going to be one of our ten mentors. He comes to us with extremely impressive quals, and we expect great things from him. We are definitely lucky to have him."  
  
Dave's eyes moved up to the professor's face momentarily while he spoke, but when his eyes returned to Adam's face, he noticed the blue eyes hadn't moved, hadn't looked away for even a second. Dave felt heat rising to his face. He turned at the sound of giggling. Two younger women beside him hid behind their hands, shooting furtive glances between Dave and this exotic mystery man, Adam.  
  
"So much vanilla in this room," the professor moaned. "I would think with a room full of college students something exciting would be going on in your lives."  
  
The group of students tittered as the professor walked out of Dave's view. Suddenly he felt a pair of hands settle on his shoulders and squeeze firmly.  
  
"Dave Karofsky," the professor drawled in an interesting way that made Dave feel like he was about to be sent to the principal's office. Dave looked up into the older man's brown eyes and swallowed. "You come to us from the Anderson School at UCLA, don't you?" The older man patted Dave affectionately. "What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
Dave looked from face to face, staring at him, settling at last on those blue eyes that had captured his attention for most of the class.  
  
Dave addressed his answer directly to Adam.  
  
The blue eyes softened as they waited for his answer.  
  
"I moved up here from San Diego with my roommate, Kurt, and four kids that we're raising."  
  
The room went quieter than he expected.  
  
"And what did you do in San Diego?" the professor asked.  
  
"I...uh...sold car insurance...and volunteered with homeless gay and lesbian teenagers."  
  
The inquisitive face with the blue eyes raised an eyebrow at that response.  
  
"And what brings you to Los Angeles?" the professor continued. Dave wondered if he had spent this much time drilling the other students, or just him because he had impressive friends.  
  
"Uh...we came here so I could go to school and so Kurt could design clothes."  
  
Dave felt that was the most tactful answer.  
  
"And, which one of you is dating Blaine Anderson?" A smooth voice spoke - a voice with the most alluring British accent Dave had ever heard.  
  
The voice came from the gorgeous man with the blue eyes.  
  
"Uh...Kurt...is..."  
  
The smile turned into a playful smirk.  
  
"That's good to know," Adam returned with a wink.  
  
Dave stopped breathing.  
  
The professor went on to explain that the mentors would choose a student and pair them up with a client to represent. If things worked out well for all parties involved, the students would continue to represent their clients through the end of their college careers and hopefully beyond graduation.  
  
Dave wondered what he would have to do to be paired with Adam.  
  
The orientation droned on a bit, with Dave's mind trying to bounce back and forth between listening to the professor explain his expectations and Dave's thoughts about why Adam would spend the whole hour staring at him. Dave chided himself for even considering a relationship. He hadn't even officially started school, and he had so many responsibilities at home.  
  
Another voice - a softer, kinder voice, that sounded a lot like Kurt's - asked him why. Why didn't Dave deserve happiness, seeing as Kurt had already found his?  
  
The room emptied quickly when the professor said they could go. It took Dave a little longer to pick up his books and gather his things. He checked his phone, which had vibrated earlier, letting him know he had a message.  
  
Kurt's smiling face popped on the screen. The thumbnail used to be a picture of Kurt from high school, taken after the two boys had become friends. Dave had changed it recently to Kurt's new Facebook profile pic, a photo of him and Blaine together at Legoland, smiling like idiots as they looked into the camera lens. Dave had changed it to remind him of the new best friend he never wanted, in love with the man he always needed.  
  
Dave sighed, opening the message.  
  
 _From: Kurt_  
 _How are things!?!?!? Dying to know :)_  
  
Dave chuckled, quickly shooting back a message.  
  
"Boyfriend?" a voice asked. Dave looked up to see Adam, making his way back down the stairs and approaching the chairs.  
  
"Uh..." Dave tried to answer, flustered by the man's exquisite accent. "Roommate...and _his_ lunatic boyfriend."  
  
Adam chuckled cutely, his eyes squinting a bit.  
  
"So, Blaine Anderson, huh?" Adam continued as he lazily walked toward Dave. "Your life must be exciting."  
  
Dave chuckled.  
  
"You have no idea," he said, fumbling his phone before rescuing it from hitting the linoleum while he balanced his books in his arm.  
  
"Yeah, I've seen him on that show... _Sing_ , is it?"  
  
Dave nodded, looking down at his feet.  
  
"It's pretty popular." Dave wanted to bite his own tongue off. Was he really so boring that he couldn't think of anything more interesting to say?  
  
"You don't have to tell me," Adam said. "If you think it's popular here, you should come back home with me."  
  
Dave's face snapped up, his eyes wide, his cheeks almost glowing red.  
  
"To England," Adam clarified with a shy smile. "His picture's everywhere."  
  
"Sounds like my life," Dave said. Adam chuckled.  
  
"Personally, I'm not that big a fan," Adam admitted.  
  
"He's a pretty cool guy, actually." Dave felt the need to defend Blaine, even to hot, blond, British guys that he swore were flirting with him.  
  
"Well, maybe you could convince me to change my mind," Adam suggested, grabbing the books out of Dave's hands. Dave couldn't help but notice the man's biceps. If he had been staring like he suspected he was, Adam was nice enough not to say anything. "Why don't I buy you a coffee and you can tell me all about it."  
  
"Oh," Dave said, "I don't know. I really should..."  
  
"David Karofsky!" a high pitched voice sounded from out of nowhere. "You do not come back to this house until you have coffee with that man!"  
  
Dave looked around comically as he tried to figure out where the familiar voice was coming from. Adam bit his lip trying, and failing, to silence a snicker. Dave picked up his iPhone and realized in horror that instead of sending Kurt a text he had dialed his number. When he had fumbled the phone, he must have switched it to speaker.  
  
"Uh..." Dave was at a loss for words.  
  
"Oh, seriously." Kurt cleared his throat. "Hello," he said sweetly. "I'm Kurt Hummel."  
  
Adam leaned in a bit towards the phone in Dave's hand.  
  
"Adam. Adam Crawford."  
  
Dave drew in a sharp breath at the feeling of Adam's breath ghosting over his skin.  
  
"And I'm Blaine Anderson," Blaine's tight voice interjected.  
  
"Blaine?" Kurt hissed over the phone.  
  
"What? He already said he didn't like me."  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Adam said, still trying to hold back a laugh, "but if it's all right with the two of you, I'm going to take Dave for some coffee."  
  
"Yes," Kurt almost yelled. "Yes. Do that!"  
  
Dave finally came to his senses when he heard Kurt agree to a coffee date for Dave.  
  
"Uh, but I thought you guys were going out with Nick and Jeff tonight?" Dave asked, and why oh why was he arguing? Dave was certain this beautiful man would eventually grow tired of the wishy-washy routine and walk away. Adam's eyes continued to smile and sparkle, and holding Dave's books in his arms, he didn't look like he was going anywhere without him.  
  
"We'll go out tomorrow night," Blaine offered. "So, you know, we're here, and you don't need to hurry back."  
  
Somewhere in the background, Kurt giggled.  
  
Dave finally had the sense to roll his eyes.  
  
Who knew that someday he'd actually be thankful for Blaine Anderson?  
  
"All right, guys," Dave said. "I think I'll take it from here."  
  
"Great," Blaine said.  
  
"Ooo, Dave," Kurt sang through the phone. "Take me off speaker for a sec."  
  
Dave switched the phone back to headset and held it to his ear, Adam's smiling eyes practically dancing as he watched the adorable man, juggling his life so nervously in front of him.  
  
"Yes, Kurt? Uh, yes, Kurt. He's tall."  
  
Adam couldn't help but laugh now as he heard Kurt squeal over the phone.  
  
"I'm going now," Dave said. "Kiss the kids for me."  
  
Dave hung up his phone and slipped it into his pocket without looking back at Adam, who chuckled quietly.  
  
"Uh, I don't suppose we could just pretend that didn't happen, and go back to the part where you asked me out for coffee?"  
  
"No," Adam said, shaking his head.  
  
Dave's face fell.  
  
"Because then I wouldn't know how adorable you really are."  
  
Dave looked back at Adam and smiled.  
  
"After you," Adam said with a flourish from his unburdened arm. Dave walked passed him up the stairs, smiling so hard he was sure his face might just break.

* * *

  
  
"God, Blaine! _Harder_!" Kurt moaned, while Blaine pounded into his boyfriend from behind.  
  
"I'm trying, baby," Blaine panted heavily, sweating out of every possible pore as his body moved like a blur. "But you've got me a little worn out. I think we've gone way over our half hour limit."  
  
Kurt grabbed a hold of the mattress with both hands for leverage, and shoved himself back to meet Blaine's thrust.  
  
"Come on, Blaine!" Kurt growled. "I want to feel this tomorrow!"  
  
"We'll probably be doing the same thing in a couple hours," Blaine retorted, rearing back and smacking Kurt hard on the ass.  
  
Kurt purred when the sting dissolved into an erotic tingle.  
  
"Do you think it's irresponsible... _that's it, Blaine!_...to leave the kids alone so we could do this?"  
  
Blaine smacked Kurt again, shuddering when he felt Kurt clench around him.  
  
"Alone?" Blaine chuckled. "Nick, Jeff, and Hunter are here. We ordered them a pizza. They barely acknowledged us when we left."  
  
Blaine dug his fingernails into Kurt's hips as he held Kurt still and drove into him.  
  
"Good..." Kurt panted, head rolling on his shoulders at the cruel pleasure of Blaine's quickening pace. "We're agreed. Now, let's stop talking..."  
  
Kurt's words drifted off as Blaine found the perfect angle, the perfect spot, and abused it deliciously.  
  
Blaine smiled, drilling into Kurt's ass and taking his dom's power of speech away.  
  
Kurt found he could no longer keep himself up on his hands as Blaine assaulted his ass. He lowered himself to his elbows, and then bowed his head to the mattress to give Blaine better access, which his adoring sub took advantage of by spreading Kurt's cheeks carefully so he could pound deeper. It astounded Kurt how long Blaine managed to keep up this intense pace.  
  
Kurt didn't know how long he could take it, but he didn't want it to stop, either. It felt way too good, too decadent.  
  
He wanted to stay like this with Blaine forever.  
  
"Look at my gorgeous black swan." Blaine struggled against the onslaught of his own orgasm to heap praise on his incredible boyfriend. "Look at you taking it for me like this. What did I do to deserve this?"  
  
Aside from the obvious, this was something new, something special that Blaine had begun to excel at - stroking his dom's ego. No one had ever even tried before. Blaine seemed to become a pro overnight.  
  
Blaine would do anything for Kurt, and he had begun to realize just how far compliments went towards pushing Kurt over the edge.  
  
Kurt turned to look at Blaine, head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted, muscles tightening as his hips stuttered.  
  
Blaine felt blue eyes roaming over his body and opened his eyes to catch them, and hold their gaze.  
  
"Beautiful," Kurt murmured, looking at Blaine's golden, lust blown eyes. "Beautiful and mine."  
  
Blaine whimpered. He leaned over Kurt, reaching around to grab hold of Kurt's neglected cock, but Kurt bucked up backwards to get Blaine to kneel up high again.  
  
"No," Kurt said, "I want to cum only with you inside me."  
  
It sounded like a plea.  
  
A plea from his black swan.  
  
That was enough.  
  
Blaine was cumming hard, but he tapped in to the last reserves of his quickly siphoning energy and gave one last go, growling against oversensitivity as he surged forward, holding Kurt's shoulders down to the mattress and attacking him with a few last  hard thrusts.  
  
Kurt held on tight, bracing himself back to take what Blaine had to give.  
  
Blaine, frustrated with himself for wearing out, gripped Kurt's hips hard and growled out, "Come on!"  
  
That resonating growl burned through Kurt like a lightening bolt, traveling over the network of his nerves and veins, firing in his blood, forcing it all to rush south at once, and Kurt came with a growl of his own.  
  
"More," Kurt ground out, and Blaine, the obedient and observant sub that he was, knew exactly what Kurt the dominatrix was commanding him to do. He drove himself inside Kurt's body straight to the hilt, until they were pressed together, skin on skin. Holding him hard against him, Blaine dug his nails deep into Kurt's hips. Kurt bucked his back up and bit his lip, keeping what was undoubtedly a scream locked in his throat. The move had the desired effect as Blaine watched Kurt cum almost violently. Blaine grabbed his boyfriend and pulled him close, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and earning another enticing moan.  
  
"Oh, Blaine," Kurt said, sinking down into Blaine's lap, letting his boyfried mark his skin. "Don't start something you can't finish. Keep doing that, and I'll be ready to go again."  
  
With one final hard suck, Blaine reluctantly let Kurt go, watching as his boyfriend melted back against him, the smile on his face almost brighter than the sun.  
  
Blaine had discovered early Kurt's penchant for pain and how it equated to pleasure. It had frightened him for all of a quarter of a second before he realized he had some of the same desires, too. Mostly, the two matched each other round for round, but there were rare occasions when Kurt could only cum through pain, and Blaine had to admit, it was really hot.  
  
This afternoon, with all of the overwhelming stress that came with this newfound, albeit not unwelcome, nugget of celebrity, was one of those times.  
  
Blaine, was more than happy to oblige, even if marking Kurt's perfect skin did sometimes break his heart.  
  
"That's my good boy," Kurt panted and purred, looking up at his Blaine, who sat strong on his hips, cradling Kurt gently.  
  
Blaine smiled.  
  
He truly loved Kurt...every bit of Kurt.  
  
"I think we should grace the others with our presence," Blaine said, kissing Kurt's forehead. "If you wait a moment, I'll get the shower started."  
  
Kurt smiled.  
  
"Okay," Kurt agreed. "Though, if you can bring it out here, that would be great."

* * *

  
  
Dave still wasn't home by the time Kurt and Blaine emerged from the bedroom, freshly showered and dressed. Kurt furrowed his brow, contemplating whether or not he should give him a call, but Nick's smirk caught his attention.  
  
"Well, well, well," the shorter brunette teased. "Nice to see you guys. We thought we'd lost you."  
  
"Dude!" Jeff exclaimed, his eyes glued to the t.v. screen where his Dry Bones was about to cut ahead of Finn's Wario as their little go karts raced across the track. "We had to raise the volume on the t.v. three times because of you guys!"  
  
"And I lost $50 bucks," Hunter mumbled from his place on the floor with Eva. Eva sat on the carpet, snapping together colored blocks and pulling them apart, working on her fine motor skills. She wore huge noise dampening headsets over her ears to block out the sound of the video game music, which had recently become a trigger for her.  
  
Blaine blushed, laughing, and buried his head into Kurt's arm while Kurt stared at Hunter in shock.  
  
"You bet on us?" Kurt exclaimed incredulously, which made Blaine laugh harder.  
  
"Well, I didn't think you were going to be in there over an hour!" Hunter handed Eva a purple block she reached for. She turned it over in her hands before handing it back to Hunter. She reached for it again, and he handed it back patiently, the whole dance repeating several times till she turned her attention to a green block near by. "I mean, what the heck were you guys doing in there?"  
  
"And that," Nick said, walking up to Kurt and taking his arm, "is why you don't have a girlfriend."  
  
"Or a boyfriend, either," Kurt mumbled under his breath, and Nick dissolved into giggles. Nick pulled Kurt away. Nick settled back on the couch where he was helping Barbra decide between dressing her dolls in Oscar de la Renta or Bob Mackie. Leave it to Nick to hunt down vintage designer Barbie doll clothes.  
  
Kurt made his way over to where Jeff was trying to maneuver his car through a canyon of Ba-bombs.  
  
"I am really sorry that we stuck you guys with the kids for so long," Kurt said, bumping the blond man in the hip.  
  
"No worries, K," Jeff said, looking like he wasn't paying too much attention. Then, he craned his neck around to look at his boyfriend. Nick sat on the couch, completely engaged in the business of Barbie clothes with Barbra. Jeff leaned in close to Kurt, eyes still glued to the screen.  
  
"Maybe you can return the favor someday soon," Jeff said.  
  
Kurt bit his lip, trying to divine the man's meaning.  
  
"You got Nick pregnant?" Kurt remarked, confused.  
  
Jeff didn't dignify the question with a remark.  
  
Then, Kurt's eyes went wide.  
  
"Oh my God!" Kurt whispered. "You're going to..."  
  
"Shhh!" Jeff hissed. "Don't tell him."  
  
"I won't." Kurt bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. "Did you get the..."  
  
"Yeah," Jeff answered, veering to the right to avoid a turtle shell. "I was hoping if I sent you a picture, you could design our tuxes."  
  
"Definitely." Kurt squeaked. "ASAP!"  
  
Kurt looked back at Nick and Barbra; Barbra looking for shoes to match the elaborate blue brocade dress her doll wore, and Nick doing another doll's hair in a complicated looking French twist. Kurt sighed.  
  
Another beautiful wedding. Kurt could hardly wait.

* * *

  
  
  
Blaine stayed by Hunter, plopping down on the floor beside Eva.  
  
"You know," Blaine said, watching the young girl concentrate on stacking her blocks, "I think you're taking my best girl away from me, Hunter."  
  
Hunter smirked.  
  
"Really?" Hunter picked up a pile of papers and handed them to Blaine. Blaine flipped through the pages, each one filled from edge to edge with his name - some with thick, block letters colored in; some decorated in glitter; some with stick pictures in the margin, everyone labeled with a carefully written name. One in particular caught his eye. He pulled it away from the other pictures and studied it.  
  
"I'm going to steal this one, if you don't mind," Blaine said, turning the picture so Hunter could see. Hunter smiled.  
  
"I thought you would."  
  
Hunter caught Eva's eyes and pointed to her left. She turned her face, and the moment her eyes fell on Blaine, her eyes widened and her whole face lit up .  
  
"Blaine!" she exclaimed, lifting her arms to indicate she wanted him to hold her. He scooted her to him, careful of her cast, and sat her in his lap. She rubbed his nose with hers, which had become their special greeting to each other. Her laugh for him was infectious - so much different from her normal, high pitched laughter when she saw something that amused her; something more lyrical, musical.  
  
"Blaine! Hunter me play blocks," she chirped.  
  
Blaine smiled and held Eva close, taking a moment to inhale deeply the strawberry shampoo that had become her new favorite.  
  
She turned and looked at him with a quizzical look.  
  
"You smell me?" she asked, as if she thought he was crazy.  
  
"Yup," he said, standing his ground in the face of this adorable little girl.  
  
She giggled, twisting her body in his lap, looping her arms around his shoulders, and pulling him close. Burying her nose into his curls, she took a deep breath.  
  
"I smell you, too," she said. She turned back around in his lap and went back to her blocks.  
  
Kurt returned to the small group on the floor, who played with blocks and talked animatedly about smelling something. He sat down beside Blaine and watched the little girl, who seemed to be blossoming in this new house, with a patient Hunter as her teacher, and, of course, Blaine, who seemed to fill a special place in her heart.  
  
Blaine passed the drawing to Kurt, who took it with a wry grin.  
  
"It seems like your biggest fan has been drawing for you again," Kurt said, looking over the crayon and glitter adorned picture. "Oh, look at that. She even included us in this one..." Kurt looked at the stick fingers with the circles for hands and feet. "Oh, here I am." Kurt pointed to a tall, thin stick figure with up-swept hair. "And here's Dave, and...birds?"  
  
Blaine looked at Kurt sadly as he waited for realization to hit. He knew when Kurt's eyes went wide and he brought a hand to his mouth.  
  
"Oh my God," Kurt breathed, grabbing a hold of Blaine's arm and squeezing it tight. "It's Finn and Rachel!"  
  
They heard the front door open and every one present turned to see Dave, with an armful of books, walk dazily into the house. He walked straight to his room with a blissful smile on his face.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N:** _I am so sorry this took so long to update, but another chapter is right on its heels. :)_

 

 

Kurt watched in awe as contractors, carpenters, plumbers, and a full film crew made their way to the backyard toward his studio space. Nick apparently wasn't only a brilliant designer of his own, but he could be practical when he had the right motivation. Using his connections and Kurt's newly found mini-stardom, he got the producers of _Extreme Makeover: Celebrity Home Edition_ to agree to do the renovations on Kurt's work space.

Kurt ecstatically tossed out his previous invoice - a bill for more money than he had ever seen in his whole life.

"I can't believe you were able to swing this, Nicky!" Kurt said with his arm around his beaming best friend.

"Oh, but you and your new-found fabulousness made it so easy." Nick squeezed Kurt against him. "All I had to do was mention how you and I were bestest best friends, and they pretty much fell over themselves to come out here."

Kurt looked at Nick with a raised eyebrow.

"You lie!" Kurt teased. Nick looked affronted.

"I do not!" Nick gasped. An unsuspecting Jeff walked past, following Finn, face buried in his iPhone. Nick grabbed his arm and yanked him over. Jeff tripped just a step, but managed to keep playing Candy Crush without missing a beat.

"Jeff," Nick consulted his boyfriend, face serious as he confronted Kurt. Kurt crossed his arms in front of his chest and smirked. "Tell Kurt how much the producers wanted to makeover his studio."

Jeff's eyes shot up, shifting quickly between the two men as if only now noticing that they were addressing him.

"Yup," Jeff said simply. "That guy who hosts...Ty or whatever...almost pissed himself when Nick mentioned he knew you."

Nick looked back at Kurt with a superior smug. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright, Duval," Kurt relented. "I guess you didn't lie. Now I suppose I owe you."

"Mmhmm," Nick hummed, letting go of Jeff and patting him on the ass, sending him on his way to where ever he was originally headed, face still buried in his game. "Yes, you do."

"So, what will it be this time?" Kurt asked. "The cupcakes or the crepes?"

This was how Kurt and Nick's arguments usually got settled. When Kurt won an argument, he made Nick take him shopping at Sears. The first few times, Nick literally went pale and hyperventilated. After a while, though, when money stopped being such an issue, shopping at Sears held no appeal for Kurt, and more times then not they ended up in the men's department at one of Nick's favorite swank boutiques, trying to find something new that might bring Blaine to his knees.

When Nick won an argument, he got to choose between Kurt's salted caramel and double fudge cupcakes, or his Nutella crepes.

The crepes almost always won out.

"The crepes, I think, my good man." Nick looped his arm through Kurt's as they trekked past the last few members of the crew carrying tools and heavy equipment. "Oh, and please tell me Barbra's here? I found the most adorable collection of Vera Wang dresses for her Midge doll."

"Midge?" Kurt asked, looking at Nick stunned. "When did Barbra inherit a Midge?"

"Well," Nick said, biting his lip and looking nervously around the outside of the house, "it might have been...you know...it might have been mine."

Kurt chuckled, a short burst of noise that he couldn't stop even if he had wanted to.

"Oh my God!" Kurt reached for the door knob, watching as an already flustered Nick turned bright pink.

"I went through a phase..."

"Went through, honey?" Kurt interrupted. "I think that phase has resurfaced with a vengeance."

"Well," Nick said in his own defense, "Jeff won't play dolls with me, and I don't have any other friends under the age of twelve..."

Kurt thought fondly of all the nights Nick spent with Barbra, doing her makeup, perusing the pages of Vogue, and, of course, all of the vintage Barbie clothing she had suddenly accumulated. This led to thoughts of Jeff and his late night Wii tournaments with Finn. Hunter had started taking a shine to little Elphaba, and finally, the now famous duo of Blaine and Eva, locked constantly in their own little world together that no one else seemed to understand. Funny enough, this strange universe where other's weren't invited had opened Eva up to everyone in the house. She occasionally played with Barbra. She tolerated Elphaba. Sometimes, she even let Finn read to her, all as long as she had her private play land with Blaine where she could escape.

Kurt reflected on them all fondly, usually gathered in his living room at night, spread around in specific stations: Jeff and Finn in front of the t.v., Nick and Barbra on the couch, Hunter with Elphaba in his lap while he worked with Eva, and Blaine right by her side.

When did so many people fall in love with his kids, Kurt wondered. It seemed to happen so quickly, when he wasn't paying attention.

Kurt mixed up the crepe batter while Nick talked, an endless stream of conversation about things at work, the plans for Kurt's studio, and Jeff. Mostly Jeff. Nick was so head-over-heels in love, it was breathless. Kurt giggled quietly at Nick's heart eyes, shining brightly as he gazed longingly out the window where his boyfriend played catch with Finn.

"So, what is Blaine going to do?" Nick asked, displaying his rarely seen serious side. Blaine and Kurt had been discussing Blaine's options since Nick had leaked the photos, and the studio suddenly and mysteriously decided to start doing rewrites.

"He figures he'll finish out the season," Kurt said, with a small mixture of relief and pride, "and then say sayonara to _Sing_."

Nick's eyes went wide, his mouth dropped.

"Wow," Nick breathed, "I never thought he would actually do it. I mean, that show's been his whole life."

Kurt nodded as he carefully flipped the first crepe.

"Yup. He's going to talk with Thad this week to iron out a strategy. He'll probably have to pay a fine for breaking his contract, but he says it's not a big deal."

Kurt had hoped Blaine wasn't understating the issue. Then again, it was a problem that dealt with money. Money meant something different for people like Blaine who had so much of it than it did to Kurt who never seemed to have enough. He forced it to the back of his mind and let Blaine handle it.

"It's going to be so lonely on the lot without him to bother," Nick said, tracing an old spot of wax on the dining room table with his finger. "But, to tell you the truth, I'm really looking at the idea of doing something different myself."

Kurt turned to his friend, eyebrows raised.

"Really?" Kurt slid the crepe from the pan onto a plate and started a second one. "What did you have in mind?"

Nick looked thoughtful as he stood, going to the cabinet to look for some orange oil to remove the wax.

"I'm not sure." Nick took a clean white dish towel from Kurt, and started to soak the small glob of wax in the oil. "I could always do something in design, or be a private make-up artist. Heck, I could go somewhere else and be a personal shopper."

"Why do I hear a 'but' coming?" Kurt watched Nick with an amused smirk as Nick buffed the spot on the table, lifting away the wax.

"I don't know." Nick shook the towel out over the trash, and then handed it back to Kurt, who tossed it under the counter in a tiny pail for dirty towels. "I wish I could do something that would give me the opportunity to do something more worthwhile, like Jeff does, being a physical therapist. I feel like he thinks what I do is...fluffy."

Kurt knit his brow as he slid the second crepe onto the plate.

"I don't think that's true." Kurt turned off the burner and faced his friend. "Has he ever said that?"

Nick raised his left hand, wiggling his third finger.

"Do you see a ring on this finger?" Nick huffed.

 _'Not yet,'_ Kurt thought, trying to keep a straight and sympathetic face. _'But I've seen it in its Tiffany box.'_

"Nick..." Kurt leaned over the table and took Nick's hands. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. That boy would love you even if you were mucking out stables."

Nick fixed Kurt with large, puppy dog eyes, brimming with emotion.

"Do you think so?"

Kurt smiled.

"Of course."

Nick gave his adorably clueless friend a kiss on the forehead.

Blaine walked into the kitchen just as Kurt plated the crepes. He crept up behind Kurt and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing him gently on the neck. Kurt hummed as Blaine's lips traveled down his smooth skin. Kurt got lost in the feeling of Blaine's mouth, his warm tongue licking lightly up to his hair line, and then down to the nape of his neck. His eyelids fluttered closed, leaning his head back to rest against Blaine's shoulder.

Kurt barely registered when the plate of crepes was pulled from his hands. Nick, seeing that Kurt would probably be occupied a while longer, powdered the crepes with sugar, and started munching happily.

Kurt put his spatula down and turned in his boyfriend's arms, moving his head and exposing more of his neck for Blaine's hungry mouth. Blaine sucked a little more urgently, followed by a bite, letting it sting just a bit.

Kurt moaned, Nick and the crepes long forgotten.

Nick sighed as he watched them, not at all ashamed about staring, nibbling carefully at his chocolate filled breakfast. Once Kurt's mouth claimed Blaine's, Nick knew he had lost Kurt for the rest of the afternoon.

"Not that I don't love breakfast and a show," Nick said, swallowing a bite of his second crepe, "but why don't you guys move this party to the bedroom. I'm going to hunt down my playmate and get to starting on Midge's hair."

Blaine and Kurt chuckled into their kiss, breaking away and laughing whole-heartedly while a nonplussed Nick picked up his plate and headed for the living room.

"What?" he said as he left. "The girl's a red-head, and she has very specific hair needs."

Blaine took Kurt's hand and led him back through the house, down the hallway to Kurt's bedroom, walking backwards so he could look his beautiful boyfriend up and down. He knew the route to Kurt's room by heart; he could make it there in the dark if he had to.

Blaine was more at home with Kurt, Dave, and the kids than in his own house just a short distance away. Blaine knew it had nothing to do with the physical abode, and everything to do with the company.

Kurt could hear the show being filmed through his open windows. He smiled, toying with the idea of leaving the windows open, knowing he and Blaine would most likely get loud and everyone outside would hear. He tilted his head, biting his lip while he let dirty thoughts dance through his head, but in the end he decided against it. No need to let everyone in on what he and Blaine did in the bedroom.

The boudoir photograph of Blaine was enough of a taste. No reason to give them a free show.

Kurt closed the windows, hearing Blaine whine pitifully as he stepped up behind him. Blaine wrapped an arm around him and looked through the glass into the backyard.

"I know," Kurt purred soothingly, "I know. As much as I would enjoy hearing you cum on national television, let's just keep this to ourselves for now. Okay?"

Blaine reached around Kurt's chest, running his hands up and down the soft, purple material of his cashmere sweater. With firm fingers, Blaine massaged the muscles of Kurt's chest, enjoying the contrast of Kurt's hard pecs beneath the soft material. He hummed, content to hold his dom and rest his head against his back.

"How did this happen?" Blaine asked.

"Hmm?" Kurt murmured in response. "How did what happen, love?"

Blaine smiled, holding Kurt tight.

"How did I get everything I never knew I wanted?"

Kurt chuckled, putting his hands over Blaine's, bending his head to kiss Blaine's fingers lightly.

"You know, I was just thinking the same thing."

Blaine bit his lip, wanting to giggle, but he feared it might kill the mood. Blaine slipped his hands free of Kurt's grasp and slid them underneath Kurt's sweater, seeking out his nipples and circling them gently with his fingertips. Kurt rolled his head back onto Blaine's shoulder, closing his eyes to absorb the feeling of Blaine's rough fingertips on his sensitive skin. Kurt reached his arms around, grabbing Blaine's thighs and pulling him close.

"Do you like that?" Blaine whispered, pulling one hand at a time out from under Kurt's sweater, licking his index fingers, returning to the hard nubs, and circling around them again.

"Mmhm," Kurt hummed, squeezing Blaine's thighs with long fingers.

Blaine ran his fingernails down Kurt's chest, watching his lips part as he sucked in a gasp. Blaine's hands ran over Kurt's legs, just above his knees, and then back up his legs to his chest.

"How long do you think before they're going to do shots of the house?" Kurt asked, remembering that the host had mentioned wanting to do some interior shots of the main house, and possibly filming Kurt, Blaine, and Dave, along with the children.

"Oh, it could be hours," Blaine said, lifting up the hem of Kurt's sweater, pulling it carefully over Kurt's head, and laying it flat on the bed. "In fact, they might not do it until tomorrow." Blaine latched onto Kurt's shoulder and bit gently, leaving imprints along the line of his back.

"That's good." Kurt turned, immediately helping Blaine out of his Marc Jacobs shirt, slowly undoing every button, talented fingers slipping the tiny disks through the holes. "I can't remember the last time I had you."

Blaine rolled his eyes.

"If I remember correctly, it was about four this morning."

Kurt sucked a dark mark onto Blaine's neck, causing him to hiss at first, before the sting it mellowed into a crackle of electricity that traveled straight to his cock.

"I didn't ask if _you_ remembered," Kurt said, his voice icy. He bit down hard. Blaine stepped back involuntarily, reaching out and grabbing hold of a bedside table, almost upsetting the lamp that sat on it. "I said _I_ don't remember."

Kurt wrapped a hand around the nape of Blaine's neck, holding him still as he bit. Blaine, caught in the rapture of Kurt's teeth sinking into his skin, ran his fingers down Kurt's chest, down his side, down his back, anywhere he could find skin to touch. Kurt moved away from Blaine's neck, admiring his handiwork, then leaned his own neck over, silently requesting that his sub do the same.

Kurt breathed in sharply when Blaine's teeth came in contact with his skin. Blaine's technique still needed a little refining, but Kurt didn't mind helping him figure things out. Kurt moaned as Blaine moved against his skin, readjusting his mouth on the column of Kurt's neck, finding the spot Kurt liked to have bitten the most. Once Blaine connected with it, Kurt's knees buckled. He sat back on the bed, pulling Blaine down on top of him, content to writhe beneath his sub while Blaine alternated between sucking and biting on his neck.

Blaine had to be careful. He had discovered recently that he could make Kurt cum just like this.

Somewhere in the vicinity of Blaine's pants, Kurt could hear _Not the Boy Next Door_ playing.

"Mmm, Blaine?" Kurt said. "Blaine, I think your pants are ringing."

"Mmhmm." Blaine bite harder in the hopes of distracting Kurt.

Kurt arched his back and moaned.

"Blaine," Kurt whined, but made no move to push Blaine off as long as his mouth gnawed gently on his neck. "That might be the studio."

"Why do you think I'm not answering it." Blaine spoke the words against Kurt's skin so he could go back to what he was doing without losing this precious spot.

"Blaine...at least turn off your ringer."

"Wait," Blaine said, a smile growing on his lips. "Are you even sure that's _my_ phone?"

Kurt groaned. Ever since Blaine had changed his ringtone to that song, it was the same corny joke every time.

"Kurt," Blaine sang, his lips ghosting over the stinging skin, little puffs of air tingling over the growing bruise, "you know it'll go quicker if you just say it and don't argue."

Kurt sighed.

"You're a horrible sub," Kurt dead panned. Then, with another loud groan, he said in his brightest possible voice, "But, Blaine, you know that I am not the boy next door."

Blaine giggled like an idiot, and Kurt rolled his sub off his body and onto the bed.

"You might as well get it now since I refuse to fuck you."

Blaine's face fell as he fished the phone out of his pocket.

"I don't care who you are, that's funny," he moped petulantly, looking at the screen. Blaine looked at the number twice to be sure he had seen it correctly.

"It's Kevin," Blaine said confused.

"Wow." Kurt looked over Blaine's shoulder to see the number. "We haven't heard from him in forever. I was beginning to wonder if the studio even remembered that your character and his character just got engaged. I mean, you guys are never around each other."

Blaine shrugged as he answered the phone and put the call on speaker.

"Hey, Kevin," Blaine said. "You're on speaker with me and Kurt."

"Hey, Kevin." Kurt switched to lay his stomach.

"Hey guys." Blaine could tell right away from the tone of Kevin's voice that something was wrong.

"What is it?" Blaine asked solemnly, cutting to the chase. "You sound like someone died."

"Uh, you could say that," Kevin said. "Have you read the new re-writes?"

"Uh..." Blaine looked up into the eyes of a bemused Kurt. "No. I wasn't aware that they were done."

"They're not," Kevin replied. "But my make-up girl is dating one of the writer's assistants, and she told me..."

"Kevin," Blaine said with a smile. "Don't tell me you're worried about some second-had gossip."

"Blaine, his assistant is Jake."

Blaine went cold. Jake was Brad's nephew. He was a good kid - hardworking and ambitious, honest almost to a fault, and Brad included the boy in on everything.

"They're writing me out," Kevin rushed out all at once.

"What!?" Kurt gasped before Blaine could respond.

"Yeah." Kevin's voice trembled, almost on the verge of tears. "Apparently, Blaine, your character is going to 'find himself'..."

Kurt could almost see the air quotes.

"What do you mean, find himself?"

When the words left his mouth, Blaine suddenly saw where this was all heading.

"You cheat on me and then dump me, Blaine..." Kevin swallowed loudly, "...for Mia's character."

Blaine's jaw dropped.

"What's going to happen to you, then?" Kurt asked, moving closer to the phone as he spoke.

"Undecided." Kurt knew Kevin had started crying. "But they're making sure I don't come back."

"Oh my God." Blaine finally spoke. "He's going to ruin the show, just to get back at me?"

"It would seem so." Kevin sniffled. "Way to go, Blaine."

Kurt smiled at the teasing sound in Kevin's voice, despite the horrible news. When Kurt and Blaine had started dating, Kevin was among one of their few staunch supporters at the studio.

"Don't worry about it," Blaine tried to reassure the man. "I'll talk to Brad and see what hoop they expect me to jump through this time, and maybe..."

"No," Kevin said firmly. "Don't bother. I don't want my job back."

"Why not?" Kurt asked, though the answer was obvious. All three of them knew.

"The reason I took this part was to be a role model for people in my community," Kevin explained. "I mean, I applaud you, Blaine, I really do, but I've been out and proud way longer than you..."

Blaine nodded as he listened.

"I can't stand behind any organization that would ruin a beautiful, healthy, diverse relationship like ours, for any reason. I'm sorry, Blaine. I just can't."

Blaine looked down at the phone, his expression soft but his eyes burning. Kurt could hear a voice behind Kevin, soothing him, most likely his partner, Sam.

"Besides," Kevin continued, "I think it's time to do something else with my life. I know you feel the same way."

"Yeah," Blaine said quietly. "You're right. I do."

Kurt put a hand on Blaine's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"What do you want to do?" Kurt asked. "If that's not too personal a question."

"Actually," Kevin said with a small laugh, "I want to be a writer. Children's stories. I've already written a manuscript. I just need to find someone to publish it."

"Or publish it yourself," Blaine offered. "No one's stopping you, Kevin."

"Yeah," Kevin returned. "No one's stopping you either, Blaine. You don't need this show to be a star."

Blaine bit his lip.

"I know, Kev."

"Sooner better than later, Blaine," Kevin said. "I just wanted to warn you, I'm quitting. I won't let them write me off into the sunset. My guy's going to break up with _you_."

"Not a chance," Blaine laughed. "We're going out of this together."

"Alrighty then!" Sam butted in. "The 'Thelma and Louise' ending it is!"

Kurt and Blaine laughed.

"That's it," Kevin said. "That's all I had to say. I'm really sorry it came to this, Blaine. You don't deserve to be treated like this."

"Neither do you, Kev."

"I gotta go call my agent," Kevin said, trying hard to avoid an awkward silence.

"Yeah." Blaine looked at Kurt who looked back with a meaningful gaze. "That sounds like a great idea."

"Good luck, Blaine. Kurt. I hope everything works out."

"Yeah," Sam added. "Remember us when you're both famous."

"Us, too," Kurt said.

Blaine sat and stared at Kurt's orchid colored wall long after Kevin hung up the phone. Kurt noticed that for a man who got what he just wanted, a quite obvious way out, he looked incredibly lost. Kurt pulled Blaine down on the bed between his legs and wrapped his arms around him.

"I don't like being an actor," Blaine said finally. "I want to do something else."

"You can do anything you want to, Blaine." Kurt kissed Blaine on the temple.

"Kevin was right." Blaine shook his head back and forth, as if he still couldn't fathom that Brad would go so far just to get back at him. "Our characters on the show were supposed to be role models. They were supposed to help people. But even at the best of times, that character, it wasn't me. This persona that the studio had me locked into...it wasn't me either." Blaine turned his head to look into Kurt's sapphire eyes. "The man I am when I'm with you...that's me. I like him. I want to be him, all of the time. And I can help people without being on that stupid show. Dave volunteered at that LGBTQ center for homeless youth in San Diego, and he wasn't an actor or a celebrity. I can do that, too."

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, technically I don't have to do anything." Blaine laced his fingers with Kurt's and looked at their joined hands. "Thad's dad was originally my agent, when I first got into the show out of school. He wrote me a contract that gives me control of my own merchandising, my p.r., all that hokey crap that makes all the real money. I'll keep making money off the show, even if I'm not on it, as well as the reruns, any syndication, and all the royalties from any album that has my voice on it. Even if I didn't have all of that, I still have the trust fund my grandparents left me. With all of that, I'm pretty much set for life."

Kurt's heart almost stopped. He couldn't even imagine that kind of money.

"Well, la-de-da," Kurt said with a smirk, rolling his eyes away from Blaine. Blaine smiled.

"You know, I wasn't lying when I said that I wanted to write music." Blaine turned to face Kurt and knelt between his legs, facing him while he spoke. "Working on the show, I sang everyone else's stuff. I want to write and perform my own stuff. Maybe start a band..." Blaine took Kurt's hand in his, kissing across Kurt's knuckles. "Travel around the country...in a big, ugly RV...with my new little family...and Dave..."

Kurt giggled, pulling Blaine down until his body pressed flush against him. Kurt kissed Blaine deeply, enjoying the taste of peppermint and coffee that was Blaine's flavor for the day. Kurt released Blaine with a nibble to his lower lip. Blaine had a strange, determined look on his face.

Blaine grabbed his iPhone, and tapped out a quick text message. Kurt, feeling like he wanted to pick up again where they left off, started removing his pants, and then Blaine's.

After sending his text, he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. Kurt pulled Blaine beneath the covers of the bed.

Kurt could hear the phone ring as he began kissing along Blaine's muscular chest.

"Hey, Blaine!" the voice on the other side of the phone said. "How are you doing? I was just about to call Thad and set up a meeting for us. You know, there was a meet and greet for the new DVD last night. Did you forget. Mia sure missed you."

"Yeah, sure," Blaine responded rather flippantly. "I was spending some time with my boyfriend and his kids, and then I spent the rest of the night in bed fucking him."

Kurt could hear a loud click. For a moment, Kurt thought Brad had hung up on Blaine, but he had only switched him off speaker phone.

"Don't say things like that out loud!" Brad's voice hissed.

"Whatever," Blaine interrupted. "Look, I'm quitting."

The other end of the line went silent.

"What do you mean quitting?" Brad said after a long pause. The man spoke slowly, barely containing his rage.

"I mean as in I am no longer on _Sing_. I'm breaking my contract."

Another silence.

Then a harsh, strained bark of laughter.

"This is a joke, right?" Brad said. "You're kidding, right?"

Blaine shook his head and sighed.

"Look..." Blaine sat up, dragging Kurt up with him, "I don't want to talk to you. I hate you. You're toxic. So is Sebastian. So is Mia. So is that show. You have us all lying, and I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm going to start writing my own music. I'm going to put out a CD. Then, in about a year, I'm going to rent an RV, pack it with my guitar and the people that I love, and I'm going to tour the country playing music outside of coffee houses and shopping malls, and I'm going to be happy for once."

More silence.

"Okay..." Brad's tone changed. He tried to sound upbeat and friendly, "you're finding yourself, and that's great. Good for you! You're gay! That's great! Come out. It'll be amazing for your image, for the show's image. We'll dump Mia. You'll date Sebastian. You guys always look so good together. We'll do a PSA..."

Blaine dropped his iPhone when Kurt slipped beneath the covers of the bed, wrapped his lips around Blaine's erection, and started sucking slowly. Blaine tilted his head against the pillows and gasped as the tight, silky heat of Kurt's mouth engulfed him. The distant sound of Brad's voice, still buzzing from the phone like an angry bee about to sting was starting to kill his hard-on. Blaine shoved the phone under a pillow...and then piled three more pillows on top of it. Before long, it didn't matter, because the wet heat of Kurt's mouth was everywhere, and Blaine was so close, he could barely even register the existence of his iPhone anywhere in the room.

Brad heard Blaine moaning through the phone, cutting him off mid-sentence. He angrily switched off his phone, throwing it across the room. Writers and assistants seated around the conference table in front of him scattered, grabbing their laptops and bustling quickly from the room. Brad stared at the wall where his phone had struck, panting heavily, a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated his next move. First Kevin, and now Blaine. Brad didn't have anything on Kevin, but that didn't matter. He didn't want Kevin. He didn't need Kevin. Kevin was expendable, but Brad had put too much time and effort into making Blaine Anderson a star. He wasn't going to give him up so easily.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N:** _Here I give a nod to Kristin Dos Santos, who was originally Kristin Veitch when I went to high school with her ;)_

 

Mia wanted to cry. She breathed out quickly, big mouthfuls of air until she thought she was going to hyperventilate. She put the air conditioner on full blast, pointing at her face, as she tried hard to calm down. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face flushed from crying, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, she looked the way she felt - desperate, unhinged. Her whole world was crumbling, falling apart.

When she had presence of mind enough not to be a blubbering mess, she could direct her hate and anger right where it belonged.

 _Kurt Hummel_.

Mia had started out a gangly, teenaged nobody, and had transformed into a hot Hollywood property. Now, she had everything she ever dreamed of growing up. She spent her entire career as the female lead in the biggest show on t.v. She had the guy everyone wanted. Of course, there was a part of her that realized Blaine didn't love her, and that she was essentially sharing him with another man, but those were all incidentals. As long as they looked hot together and she got her turn in his bed, what did she care about little details like love and commitment?

Mia looked over at her phone, sitting in the passenger seat of her car, with Brad's message still visible on the screen.

_From: Brad_   
_Your boy called yesterday and guess what? He says he's out. Ditched stardom and you for his twink and his kids. What do you think about that?_

What did she think about it? The broken screen of her iPhone was evidence of exactly what she thought of it. How dare he? Who did he think he was, trading her in and costing her everything in the process?

Well, no more. She didn't intend on sitting back and watching some dandy little fruitcake destroy everything she had built for herself. It was time Mia Bradley took matters into her own hands.

Or, in the case of the red dress she had on, into her own cleavage.

Mia drove up the driveway that led to Blaine's house before noon. If Mia knew Blaine, he had just had his afternoon gin and tonic and put himself to bed for a nap.

 _'So cute,'_ she thought. _'A grown man who naps.'_

She also knew that he napped in the nude. With any luck, she'd catch him a little tired, a little unaware. She'd seduce him, fuck him, show him what he'd been missing all this time he'd spent with that fag, and she'd have her man and her job back before dinner.

In Mia's mind, it was pretty much a done deal.

Mia knocked on the door and adjusted her top, pulling it up and then down to best showcase her assets.

She waited a moment, listening at the door for signs that Blaine had heard her and woken up. She bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, her stiletto heels clicking on the cement step. She knocked again, harder this time.

She heard mumbled cursing on the other side of the door and smiled.

 _'Do I know my man, or do I know my man?'_ she thought with a smug grin. _'Score one for Ms. Bradley.'_

The door swung open slowly, and there stood Blaine, hair a mess, eyes squinting into the light. He looked Mia up and down.

 _'That's right, Blaine,'_ Mia preened beneath Blaine's tired looking eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder to expose the lines of her tanned neck. _'Take a look. Take a good long look.'_

"Can I help you?" Blaine asked. He had answered the door wearing only a white towel draped low on his hips. Mia smiled, feeling confident that her work was already half done.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Mia purred seductively. Blaine looked her up and down one more time.

"No," he said curtly, moving to close the door. Mia reached out and caught it.

"Wait!" she almost yelled. Blaine's eyes popped open at her sudden outburst. Mia was relieved that she had his attention. "It's been a while since we last talked." Mia tried to get back into her sexy state of mind, but things seemed to be slipping out of control. Seducing Blaine used to be easier. In this dress with these heels, she should have him wrapped around her in no time, but he wouldn't even let her in the door.

Blaine looked at her blankly, his face expressionless. She put a hand on Blaine's shoulder, attempting to push her way into his arms. A sharp slap connected with Mia's wrist, a loud snapping noise cracking the air. Mia pulled her hand back quickly, a look of shock on her face.

Kurt slid up from behind Blaine, the dominatrix in him assessing Mia with unamused eyes. He saw Mia's high-cut red strapless dress, the black stockings, the overwhelming amount of make-up applied hastily and thick in an attempt to hide the fact that she was barely keeping it together. On anyone else, this expression might have melted Kurt's heart, but he had enough of this woman. Kurt fixed the nervous woman with an unfeeling smirk. He sashayed seductively in his sleek black cat suit, his stiletto boots making him significantly taller than Mia. He gripped Blaine's riding crop firmly in his hand. He stepped in front of his sub, effectively blocking Blaine's body from the view of the shell-shocked woman at the front door. Kurt glared at her with gray eyes, hard as steel, carefully rimmed in black liquid eyeliner. As soon as Kurt stepped forward, Blaine wrapped his arms around him possessively, hands coming to rest on Kurt's chest. He turned his head to rest his cheek against Kurt's back. Blaine sighed. Kurt smiled.

"Good boy," Kurt purred, tossing a fond look over his shoulder at his obedient sub before turning his attention back to Mia.

"Can I help you?" Kurt's cool voice dripped with venom.

Mia pulled herself up to her full height, trying her best to match Kurt's glare.

"I was talking to _Blaine_ ," she said firmly, but her voice wavered. She watched as Blaine gripped Kurt tighter, curling his fingers into the vinyl.

"Well, _Blaine's_ not available at the moment," Kurt said dismissively. "In fact, he's not going to be available for you again. So, I suggest you run along, little girl, before you get hurt." Kurt motioned past her with the riding crop. Mia eyed the riding crop warily, taking a quick step back to avoid whatever it might do.

Mia huffed in frustration, at the end of her rope with man and his sick hold over Blaine. She tried to maneuver around Kurt's body, tried to get Blaine's attention, but Kurt smacked her again, this time on her exposed upper arm.

"I wouldn't try that again," Kurt warned, his voice soft and dangerous.

Mia's eyes shifted from Kurt, to what little she could see of Blaine, and then back to Kurt.

"Blaine!" Mia's walls broke down. She had to reach Blaine, she just had to. It couldn't all end like this, not for her. "You can't do this! You can't leave the show, and _me_ , for this twink!"

"Oh, he can..." Kurt chuckled darkly, "...and he will. Now, you need to run along, because Blaine and I have a lot of things to do." Kurt summoned Mia closer with a long, glove-clad finger. Mia leaned closer, in spite of herself. "You see," Kurt continued in a conspiratorial, but slightly exaggerated whisper, "Blaine here is going to suck _my_ cock, and lick _my_ ass, and then we're going to talk about moving him into _my_ house. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Damn straight," Blaine answered, his reply slightly muffled by Kurt's skin-tight outfit. Mia stood, frozen in place. Kurt looked at her shocked expression, shrugged his shoulders at her non-responsiveness, and slammed the door in her face. Kurt and Blaine chuckled at the yelp of anguish that came out of Mia when the door struck her nose.

* * *

Dave drove down to the university early of Friday morning to check if he had been paired with anyone for his internship project yet. He hoped to see his name paired with some up-and-coming new hopeful...with Adam as his mentor. Dave bit his lip and looked over the list, carefully reading each and every name. Even though more than half of the students in the program had gotten their assignments already, his name wasn't on the roster.

He let out a long sigh of disappointment.

 _'That's okay,'_ he thought, trying to stay upbeat. _'I'm not the only one who doesn't have a client yet. But the internship hasn't officially started. I have time.'_

Dave turned away from the board, but a niggling, cold feeling settled in his stomach, and he turned back to look over the list again to see. He didn't want to admit it, but he wanted to make sure Adam hadn't been assigned to anyone yet.

He sighed in relief when he reached the end of the list.

Adam's name wasn't on the list.

He didn't want to seem too excited. Adam was sweet and handsome, and going out for coffee with him was better than Dave had expected, but he had to face facts. He wasn't exactly a catch. He had always been considered 'big boned'. In high school, playing football and working out in the gym every day had given him a more muscular physique, but years of working behind a desk had transformed him from toned to husky. He didn't currently have a job, and he was raising four kids with the man he had been crushing on since high school...and recently the addition of that man's boyfriend.

Blaine joining their clan was by no means a problem. They had a family meeting and it was pretty much decided that Blaine's moving in was inevitable. As it was, the kids were convinced he lived there anyway, so posing the question to them as to whether or not they minded came as a bit of a surprise. An ecstatic Eva demanded that a blanket be put out on the floor for Blaine to sleep on, determined that if he was living at the house, he would sleep in her room. Kurt became nervous that she would melt down if he didn't, trying to think of way he could share Blaine with Eva. In the end, Blaine sat her down and gently explained things in that special way they had developed of communicating with each other. After being reassured that she would always be his best girl, she had no problem with Blaine spending the night in Kurt's room.

Over the week, the house had started to feel a little more crowded than usual, with the workers and the film crew around eight hours a day. Everything was fine when they worked on the studio, but the times they filmed inside the house had been difficult for Dave to handle. Kurt managed with his usual charm and finesse, a trait that Dave had always envied. The kids were left out mostly as Kurt wasn't too fond of the exposure they would get by being on t.v. When it was Dave's turn in the five second spotlight, he felt like a deer just moments away from being flattened by a semi. They didn't expect him to say a word, and to just go about his business like he would any other day, but he felt like he had been trapped in a Prius with an angry wasp, and as soon as the taping was over, he went outside for some air.

He had been assured by Kurt that everything was done, and the film crew would wrap up and be gone by the end of the day, but Dave still couldn't take it. He told Kurt the night before that he needed to hit the university in the morning. He was so eager to get away from the throng of strangers swarming his house that he left before anyone else woke up. He sat at a booth in the campus McDonald's, nursing a coffee for over an hour, just to have a moment alone.

This time to himself, this ability to escape, was a luxury he hadn't really had since inheriting the kids. He almost didn't take it, skeptical at first that leaving for his own sanity was the right thing to do. Mostly he felt guilty for telling Kurt a little white lie in order to steal the time. He decided it was a gift, and he wasn't about to take it for granted.

Besides, there was really no fooling Kurt, and his sullied conscious knew that Kurt had given him this time that he needed.

Dave took one last look at the roster, preparing to go back to the house and put up with the intrusion as best he could.

"Well, hello, stranger," a smooth voice behind him said, a warm hand squeezing his shoulder. The voice warmed Dave all over, but he didn't want to turn around. It had never crossed his mind that Adam would be at the university, especially not at eight in the morning. When Dave had escaped, he did so in his dad jeans, an old t-shirt, and a ripped up pair of Converse sneakers. He felt ridiculous being this self-conscious, but he couldn't help it. Seeing no way to get out of being caught in his Saturday-mow-the-lawn-clothes, he turned around to face Adam.

"Hey!" Dave said, extending a hand to greet the taller man. Adam rolled his eyes, stepping forward, and drew Dave into his arms instead, rubbing Dave's back before releasing him, slightly stunned and a little more red in the face than before.

"I didn't expect to see you here." Adam leaned against the wall and crossed one leg over the other.

"I...uh...came down to check the project roster," Dave explained, trying not to look Adam up and down, but noticing his tan suede shoes, his brown corduroy pants, and his slate blue shirt that seemed to fit him like it was made specifically to hug every muscle in his chest and upper arms. Adam wasn't wearing a cap this time, and his dirty blond hair looked wind-blown and a bit wild.

"You know, you could have just called." Adam glanced over the roster himself, skimming it cursory as if he already knew what it said.

"I know, but I was kind of...uh...running away from home." Dave chuckled and shook his head. "Wow. That sounds horrible when you say it out loud, doesn't it?"

Adam laughed, and the sound of his sincere, heartwarming laughter made Dave's skin tingle.

"Not at all," Adam said. "I come from a big family, so I know that you need to get away every once in a while."

With his beautiful accent, every word Adam spoke sounded like a song. Dave wanted to listen to him talk all day - about everything...about nothing...heck, he could just read the phone book for all Dave cared.

"Yeah," Dave agreed. "We actually have people working on the house right now..." Dave kept talking, not ready to say good-bye to Adam.

"Really?" Adam said, and to Dave's joy Adam looked genuinely interested.

"Actually, it's kind of a...show..."

Dave winced, realizing he wasn't making any sense. Adam furrowed his brow as he waited for Dave to explain.

"The show Extreme Home Makeover...have you heard of it?"

Adam nodded, his smile growing larger and warmer as Dave got more and more flustered.

"They have a...celebrity...edition..."

Dave mumbled the last few words, a little embarrassed at the attention their family had been getting lately. It was all for Kurt, though, and Kurt deserved every minute of it.

"Oh, wow," Adam said, impressed. "So, you're a celebrity now?"

Dave knew he was being teased, but he didn't mind.

"Not me," Dave clarified quickly. "Kurt."

"Ah, yes. The designer roommate dating the famous Blaine Anderson."

"You remembered." Dave smiled.

"Of course, I remembered." Adam moved closer to Dave, leaning on the wall right beside him, arms touching lightly as Adam crossed his arms. "They were really all you talked about at coffee the other day."

"Did I?" Dave asked in surprise. Honestly, he couldn't remember a lot of what he said when they went out for coffee. In fact, he was surprised to discover that he had spoken at all.

"Yup." Adam turned to face Dave again, fixing the full power of his sky blue eyes on Dave's hazel ones. "So, when I take you out for coffee now, I want you to tell me everything about you."

Dave's eyes opened wide as Adam's meaning dawned on him.

"N-now?" Dave stuttered. "You want to take me out for coffee again?"

"No time like the present," Adam said, grabbing Dave's hand and pulling him away from the wall.

"But...I need...I mean..."

"Would you rather go to a nice, quiet coffee house with me?" Adam asked, "Or back to the noisy house you were running away from?"

Dave was stunned into silence. He really wanted to go. Kurt would tell him to go. Blaine would tell him to go.

"Okay," Dave decided. "Coffee it is."

Adam didn't let go of Dave's hand as they walked away together.

* * *

"Okay, okay," Ty said, "let's get together for the big reveal."

Ty Pennington, host of Extreme Makeover, gathered everyone together in the backyard to see Kurt's new work space. Jeff and Hunter agreed to watch the kids so that Nick could join them. Kurt insisted, since the renovations had been done following Nick's blueprints. All the design and decorating ideas were Nick's. In fact, it was entirely due to Nick's hard work and dedication that any of this had even been possible. During his in-home interview, Kurt had made sure to talk Nick up for the cameras, so that everyone in America would know exactly how amazingly talented (and not at all fluffy) Nick Duval really was. Who knew? Maybe the exposure might be a step in getting Nick the change he was hoping for. It had worked wonders for Kurt.

Ty said a little prepared spiel for the cameras which Kurt had heard him rehearse a hundred times, so Kurt concentrated instead on the feeling of Blaine's fingers laced with his, his warm palm pressed against his skin, holding on tight.

Ty opened the door with a carefully practiced and dramatic flourish. Nick covered Kurt's eyes with his hands as Blaine led Kurt inside. Kurt heard Blaine gasp and knew without even having to see it that everything was perfect. Nick removed his hands. Kurt blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the light, which came from a tiny gold chandelier that matched the one in his bedroom perfectly.

Kurt's first look into his new studio was like waking up in a magical wonderland created just for him. Besides his own beautiful bedroom, he had never seen such an amazing space. This one had been designed for him by his best friend, which made it even all the more special. He walked to the center of the room and turned around in place, looking at the gorgeous red walls, patterned subtly with a brocade lace stencil in a slightly lighter color. The walls were lined with hand made bench seats, each one painted a cream color, and covered with cushions made of pale gold velvet. Kurt's designs, printed on hand-aged parchment and mounted in unique antique frames lined the walls at eye level.

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine breathed, looking around with wide eyes, "it's amazing."

The bathroom had been completely renovated, with a door that led to the main workspace for customers to use. The walls in the bathroom were patterned the same way the red walls were, but these were painted in the same cream and pale gold that matched the seats.

One of the small bedrooms had been transformed into Kurt's sewing room, as per Nick's plans. The futon Blaine wanted was nestled discreetly in the corner. Nick also added a lot of personal touches to this room - framed pictures of the kids, a couple of photos of Kurt and Blaine together, a collage of the more PG-13 rated shots from Blaine's boudoir photo shoot, printed in black and white and color tinted by hand. Nick had also set up two special monitors that allowed Kurt to watch the kids in the house when he came out to his workspace at night, one dedicated specifically to Eva's room. The flat screen monitors could be carried where ever Kurt decided to work.

In the foreground of the room stood several drafting and cutting tables, a special cabinet made specifically for storing fabrics and trim, and a special present from Blaine - five brand new and very special sewing machines: a Serger, a machine for delicate fabrics, a machine for heavy fabrics, a machine specially made for sewing leather, and the flagship of the collection, a sewing machine that embroidered with the use of a special computer program and drafting software.

Kurt didn't want to cry on television, but he couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, and buried his head in Blaine's shoulder.

"I can't believe you did that," Kurt whispered.

"I think of it as an investment," Blaine said softly, "in the man I'm going to marry."

Kurt sniffled, smiling as he placed a dainty kiss to Blaine's neck.

"Don't propose to me on t.v.," Kurt pleaded jokingly.

"When I propose to you," Blaine assured him, "you won't see it coming."

Blaine realized that their private moment had gone on a little too long, and been caught entirely on camera. Blaine looked over to Nick, standing with a tissue pressed against his eyes.

"Too bad you couldn't do anything with that other room," Blaine interjected loudly, bringing the attention back to the studio. "Are you turning it into storage?"

"Actually," Nick said, taking Blaine's arm and pulling him towards the closed bedroom door. "Kurt has a surprise for you, as well."

Blaine looked over at Kurt, eyebrows raised. Kurt rolled his lower lip between his teeth, watching Blaine intently as he reached for the door knob. Blaine trained his gaze on Kurt's face as he turned the knob and pushed open the door.

The cozy room was covered in acoustical tiles and paneling from floor to ceiling. Kurt and Nick had gone to Blaine's house and brought over all of his instruments - his guitars, his violin, and his Casio keyboard. Kurt had stumbled upon them once, shoved in a corner of Blaine's closet, each in their cases, untouched for far too long. Kurt had filled in the gaps, though, by outfitting the room with professional quality recording and mixing equipment, a specially built computer programmed with midi and composing software, and a few special microphones - each one calibrated specifically to pick up the timbres of each individual instrument.

It was a simple room, all things considering, but Blaine had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

Except, of course, for his incredible boyfriend.

* * *

Kurt stepped back from his dress form, looking at the silhouette of Lucy's fifth dress - a midnight blue charmeuse satin gown, with a delicate contrast of hand crocheted black lace, special ordered for her first album debut party in Milan.

Blaine had been in the room with Kurt when Lucy's stylist had ordered the dress. Kurt had smirked at Blaine, giving him a pointed look, which was why Blaine had suddenly become so dedicated to completing songs for his own first solo album. He worked in his small recording space in the back of Kurt's studio every night since, playing his new piece over and over while Kurt set about to the difficult task of matching biases.

Kurt bit his lip, inspecting the dress from all angles, observing the drape, and the way the shadows fell in long vertical lines across the fabric, giving Lucy the illusion of height with the help of special made, six-inch, Manolo Blahnik heels.

 _'Poor girl,'_ Kurt thought with a small smile and a shake of his head. At only 5' 2", she needed every inch of those heels, too.

Kurt hummed along subconsciously to the refrain that Blaine picked out over and over on the keyboard. Blaine had offered to wear a headset so Kurt could concentrate, but he refused, saying he wouldn't have had Nick add the recording space to his studio if he hadn't wanted it filled with music, even unfinished music.

A light tapping on the door broke Kurt from his deep concentration.

Kurt looked up in surprise. He lifted his wrist, blinking to focus on the dainty Rolex Blaine had bought him after he had finished and delivered his first dress. The rose pink organza gown had made its debut down the red carpet, and the morning after, all of the little boxes on Kurt's calendar filled up. The clock face, surrounded by chocolate diamonds, read 11:30.

Kurt yawned at the thought. He had been working for over five hours. Kurt looked through the panes of glass on the door as the person outside knocked again.

"One minute," Kurt called in a sing-song voice. Because of the dark outside and the light inside, Kurt couldn't make out any features of the person standing outside his door, but he had a suspicion it was Dave asking him when he was going to call it a night. The last two nights, Kurt had slept on the futon in his studio, wrapped around Blaine, but the two had been so tired that the futon hadn't been properly christened yet.

A problem Kurt had planned on rectifying later that night.

Kurt took a quick peek at Eva's monitor, and saw the girl happily wrapped around one of Blaine's t-shirts, asleep peacefully with her thumb stuck in her mouth.

 _'Well, at least it's not that,'_ Kurt said to himself.

He turned the knob and opened the door.

Standing in the threshold was a familiar face that Kurt had never seen in person.

"Oh my God!" Kurt brought a hand to his lips, covering his gaping mouth. A smiling face surrounded by waves of shoulder length brown hair looked back at him. "You Krista vos Sentos!"

"Hi, Kurt," she said brightly, extending her hand. Kurt took it in both of his and shook it enthusiastically. "Is it okay if I call you Kurt?"

"Of course," Kurt said. The music coming from Blaine's recording room had stopped. He stepped out, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hands, and came up behind Kurt.

"Hey, Krista." Blaine stepped forward and wrapped the woman in a hug. "What are you doing in this neck of the woods?"

Kurt moved aside to let the woman enter, still in awe that famed EW entertainment journalist and correspondent Krista vos Sentos was in his studio.

"Actually, I had every intention of coming on by." She turned around and looked at the space, her smile fading a little. "But, unfortunately, I'm here with some news...consider it a professional courtesy."

Kurt didn't understand what that meant, but Blaine seemed to. His bright smile fell. He wrapped a possessive hand around Kurt's waist and held him tight.

"Tell me," Blaine said, his expression serious.

Krista sighed and produced from her messenger bag a crisp new magazine.

"This hits the news stands in about an hour," she said, handing the magazine over. "I didn't know about it until this evening. They pulled the original printing and replaced it with this. I swear, Blaine, I didn't know."

Blaine took the magazine and looked at it. On the cover was a full-page photo of him and Kurt, arm in arm at a recent red carpet event. They were dressed in dark jeans, both wearing dark leather jackets, trying to say incognito among the crowd of photographers and onlookers. They had gone to see one of Kurt's more elaborate dresses, Lucy Bale's second gown, walk the red carpet. He remembered that Lucy had stopped just a few feet from them as a journalist asked her who she was wearing. Not only did she make it a point to gush over Kurt Hummel and the original design of her gorgeous dress, but spelled Kurt's first and last name twice to insure that the man wrote it down correctly. The photograph captured Kurt's beautiful, wide-eyed look of astonishment as he stared in amazement at the dress. Blaine was only looking at Kurt.

Blaine smiled at the picture, remembering that night, remembering Kurt's excitement, remembering the hours they spent in bed celebrating together afterward. Blaine looked down the page to the headline. The wording confused Blaine at first, but after the fifth time, its meaning became clear. He felt sick.

_The Dark Side to Hollywood's Hot New Couple_

Kurt watched Blaine's face go from quizzical, then sentimental, and finally blank and expressionless.

Blaine flipped to the center of the magazine where he was sure he would find the article. Kurt looked over Blaine's shoulder and went pale.

A two-page exposé, right in the dead center of the magazine. There were interviews with almost everyone Kurt knew - neighbors, the kids' teachers, his students from the rec center, and worse of all, other doms in the business. Kurt swallowed hard as he read. All the dark parts of his life on full display. Of course, a lot of it was hearsay, second hand from other people, but no one would care. Besides, it was all very accurate.

The written article would have been devastating on its own, but it included pictures - lots and lots of pictures. So many, in fact, that the article continued for another two pages. Kurt didn't even know how they had managed to get so many pictures. There was a picture of Kurt from high school, dressed in his cheerleading uniform. One pictures was from NYADA - a photograph that was taken during his audition at the Winter Showcase. There was one from the rec center that had been published to advertise his Bokwa class - him posing with his class, their faces all blurred, and him in his signature black leotard. There was a picture someone took at the Purple Pageant of Kurt singing on the piano, and another of Kurt and Blaine kissing in the mezzanine.

None of these pictures devastated him.

The ones from the bachelor parties did. Kurt had worked a lot of bachelor parties when he was new in the business. As an extra boost, he had sold photos to people in attendance. Somehow the magazine had managed to print almost all of them. Kurt, in various degrees of dom dress, from plain black leather, to sinful blue satin lingerie, and the last one, the most painful of them all, the one Blaine was sure Sebastian had something to do with, one of Kurt on his cell phone, standing on the back patio of Blaine's house, dressed only in a pair of black boy cut panties. Blaine examined the grainy photograph carefully, gritting his teeth painfully as he realized the photograph was actually a still from a recorded movie. From the angle it was taken, it wasn't shot over the fence. The camera was positioned somewhere in his backyard.

Kurt shook so badly he had to step away and sit down.

"I don't understand," Blaine said, fire burning in his eyes. "What, did you come down here for some kind of expose, or something?"

Krista, her face already crestfallen, looked deeply and sincerely hurt.

"No," she said quietly. "I did it because I didn't want Kurt, or Dave, or his kids, blindsided tomorrow when this came out. I wanted you to prepare a statement, Blaine, so you can protect them. I want to give you the opportunity to come to me if you need anything at all."

Blaine looked into her eyes, his expression softening.

Krista's eyes had misted over.

"Whoever did this," she said, pointing at the magazine, "slipped it by me, knowing that you and I are friends. I know I'm going to sound like a hypocrite when I say this, but...this is cruel. I can't stop it, so I wanted you to be prepared to deal with the fallout."

Blaine nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to give her a smile.

He had none left.

Krista looked past Blaine to where Kurt sat on a small, velvet covered stool, his clouded eyes wandering over the dress in front of him sadly.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," Krista said, her voice catching in her throat. "I truly am."

Kurt nodded, just a single movement from a head that had suddenly become too heavy to move. Krista looked down at her shoes. Looking at the sassy young man sitting, head bowed, shoulders slumped, looking so defeated, was too painful for her. She turned and walked out of the studio, closing the door quietly behind her.

"It's over," Kurt said. "No one's going to buy a single dress from me now."

Blaine knelt beside Kurt, taking his shaking hands in his own, covering them protectively.

"Kurt..."

"And Lucy," Kurt continued, motioning to the gown on the dress form. "Her whole reputation is about staying sweet and innocent in the face of cruel, debauched Hollywood. She won't want this dress."

Blaine's heart broke.

"Blaine," Kurt muttered, sniffling, his eyes red with equal parts humiliation and fury, "they're going to ruin me." Kurt turned his face, his lips twisted as he bit back tears. "They're going to destroy my career before it even begins."

Kurt crumpled for the first time since Eva's accident, falling into Blaine's waiting arms. Blaine held Kurt tight, cradling him, rocking him back and forth, whispering encouragements and promises.

"It's not over yet," Blaine reassured him. "It hasn't even begun." Blaine kissed the top of Kurt's head. "You are amazing." Blaine punctuated each word for emphasis. "You're going to make it. You'll rise above all this."

Blaine spoke the words, and in his heart he believed them, but as Kurt's body became almost boneless, sinking further against him with no strength left to cry or to care, Blaine knew that Kurt didn't have his faith.

Blaine heard his phone ring. He pulled his iPhone from his pocket and looked at the number on the screen. Blaine's faith began to ebb away.

It was Lucy Bale.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N:** _Here's a romantic little interlude before the meat of the story smacks us in the face, so please enjoy :)_

Blaine didn't want to answer the phone. He thought about letting the call go to voicemail, but that wouldn't work with Lucy Bale. She'd just keep calling and calling until they picked up, even if it was close to midnight. Blaine sighed. He was more than willing to throw himself on this grenade for his boyfriend, but whatever Lucy said, Blaine would eventually have to tell Kurt the news, and Blaine didn't look forward to breaking Kurt's heart.

As high-maintenance and demanding as Lucy could be, she was also Kurt's best and most generous customer since day one. Losing her would devastate Kurt. She was young, popular, and had her pulse on all the latest trends. Kurt was right to be scared. If he lost Lucy, he would pretty much have to start from scratch with the biggest possible blemish on his career.

Blaine decided to do this quickly and just get it over with.

"Hey, Lucy." Blaine answered the phone with the happiest tone he could muster, but he still sounded overwhelmed and tired to Kurt. Kurt looked up at his stoic boyfriend, trying so hard to be his rock. He couldn't let Blaine shoulder his burden.

"Put it on speaker," Kurt commanded in a harsh whisper. Blaine shook his head, but Kurt glared at him, his red-rimmed eyes accepting no argument.

Blaine switched the call to speaker. Lucy had already been jabbering a mile a minute.

"...and I'm really sorry for calling so late," her high-pitched voice rang through the small workspace. "Or is this early? I never know after midnight."

Blaine put the phone on Kurt's lap, and slunk tiredly to the floor at his feet.

"Anyway," Lucy continued after the silence. "Like I said, I'm sorry to bother you so late-slash-early, but I saw the article in the new copy of E magazine..."

Lucy's bubbly voice became uncharacteristically serious.

Kurt cleared his throat, trying to push aside the swell of emotion that threatened to choke out his ability to speak.

"Look, Lucy," he began, taking a hold of Blaine's offered hand for support, "I have a feeling I know what you're going to say, and if you want to back out of the dress, that's fine. I'll understand. I won't even charge you for the work I've done."

Silence answered Kurt.

"What!?" Lucy sounded mortified. "No no no no no no, Kurt! Please, tell me you can finish the dress! Oh my, God! My trip to Milan is at the end of next week! If I don't have that dress..."

Kurt listened to Lucy run on in a nervous panic for a full minute, his eyes bright with hope, his lips pushing up at the edges, trying to smile.

"Alright, alright," Kurt interrupted Lucy, trying to soothe the manic young woman. "The dress will be ready...ahead of schedule, I suspect..."

Kurt's melancholy returned. So, Lucy wasn't going to dump him after all. That didn't mean everyone else wasn't going to cut and run.

"Thank God," Lucy breathed dramatically. "Don't do that to me, Kurt. You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Okay, okay," Kurt chuckled. His brow knit as he stared at the phone. "But, I don't understand. You said you saw the article."

"Yeah," Lucy said. "My publicist always makes sure I get it first thing at midnight when it's released so I can..."

"No," Kurt interrupted politely. "I mean, I thought the article would have...I don't know...frightened you off..."

Lucy giggled on her end of the phone. Kurt looked at Blaine, who was looking between Kurt and the phone as if Lucy had just gone mad.

"Kurt," Lucy started slowly, trying to make her meaning clear. "I'm trying so hard to update my look. Make it edgy. Pitch the girl-next-door thing I've been saddled with. And here I am, lucky enough to have an ex-dominatrix as my favorite designer?"

Kurt blushed to his roots, and Blaine didn't know if it was hearing Lucy's sweet, almost childish voice refer to him as an ex-dominatrix, or hearing that he was her favorite designer.

"And then after I saw those other pictures online..."

Kurt and Blaine both sat up straight in surprise.

"Wait...what other pictures online?"

"Oh," Lucy said, sounding a little surprised herself. "Didn't you guys see them? At the end of the article it said to look at E online for even more photos, and I saw all of your designs...in leather..."

Lucy almost purred when she said 'leather'.

Blaine held out his hand and Kurt gave Blaine his iPhone. Blaine immediately pulled up an Internet browser and went to E Online. In the online version of the article there were over a thousand thumbnail photographs. Kurt's heart sank when he saw them all. Jesus Christ! How many people did he dominate since he'd gotten that job? Further down the page were a slew of older photographs that Kurt barely remembered from his days back at Vogue. Each picture was a design that Kurt had created for couture suits and dresses in leather. Kurt bit his lip when he saw them and smiled.

Isabelle.

Each picture was bookmarked with a link to Kurt's newly created online profile as freelance journalist for Vogue. It included a full portfolio of Kurt's earlier designs. Kurt had designed these leather outfits to help Isabelle when he had first started at Vogue. Now, it seemed, she was returning the favor.

"So," Lucy interjected after another unexpected silence, "I was hoping that you would help me out."

"Uh, help you out with what, exactly?" Kurt looked at Blaine who was perusing the designs, eyebrows raised as he smiled somewhat suggestively. Kurt wanted to laugh.

"I want you to design my costumes for my first world tour."

Kurt stood straight up, almost dislodging the phone from his lap. He fumbled the iPhone, but caught it without disconnecting the call.

"What?" Kurt said in utter disbelief.

"Yeah," Lucy said, not knowing that she had just handed back Kurt's entire faith in life, wrapped up in a pretty leather bow. "I have a ton of tour dates coming up for the summer, and I'm going to need at least twenty new looks."

"Twenty?" Kurt definitely choked this time. Blaine stood up beside him, putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders, squeezing gently, jumping up and down like a giddy little boy.

"Yeah, to start off with." Lucy was so nonchalant with her requests, Kurt wanted to cry. When Kurt first started designing clothes for Lucy, two dresses turned into five. Who knew how many twenty would turn into?

"And I don't want just plain black," she railroaded on. "I'm going to need white, pink, red...can leather be specially dyed? I want something in pale green, to match my eyes."

"Of course." Kurt rolled his eyes, but tears of pure joy streamed down his cheeks. "Whatever you want, Lucy. Do you think you could come by in the morning, and we can talk about it in person?"

"Definitely."

Kurt found it ironic that Lucy sounded relieved, since Kurt was the one who had just gotten his life back.

"Thanks, Lucy," Kurt said sincerely. "Thank you so much for this opportunity."

Lucy huffed.

"Are you kidding me?" Lucy chuckled. "Thank you. You're a lifesaver, Kurt."

Kurt disconnected the call and sighed, looking up at a bemused Blaine.

"She has no idea."

Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes, shimmering with emotion. He clutched Blaine's phone in his hands, holding it beneath his chin, a small smile melting through his mask of despair.

"Better?" Blaine removed the phone from Kurt's hands and slipped it in his pocket. Blaine wrapped Kurt in his arms, holding him close, swaying together beneath the small golden chandelier, dancing slowly since all the beautiful moments of their lives should be accompanied by dancing.

"I don't know." Kurt tutted, making a skeptical face. "I've heard her album."

Blaine's hands traveled slowly up and down Kurt's back, massaging their ways to his shoulders, and then sliding down his spine to his ass.

"Weren't we supposed to break in a new piece of furniture?" Blaine started unbuttoning Kurt's shirt, placing a gentle kiss on each uncovered inch of skin. Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's carefully tamed, lightly gelled curls.

"I suppose this would be a good time." Kurt kissed Blaine's forehead, breathing in the scent of his Atlas cologne, closing his eyes and reveling nostalgically in all the memories that scent brought.

Kurt's iPhone rang, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. For a moment, Kurt had managed to forget that he had more clients than just Lucy. Soon, he might only have Lucy as a client. Kurt fished his phone out of Blaine's pocket. He sighed when he saw the number on the screen. Of course it was another client.

"Hey, Dianna...yes, I...no, I...I know, and I'm really sorry, but I..."

Blaine watched Kurt's eyes mist over as he spoke to the high strung blonde. Kurt's other dress form in the corner sported the skeleton of Dianna's pale gold satin gown for the premiere of her new movie.

"Four new dresses?" Kurt's mouth dropped. Then he coughed. "And a cat suit in vinyl? Black...of course, I can...no, I won't tell anybody..."

Blaine almost laughed out loud until his own phone began to ring.

"And the red fur jacket from the picture...but in green..." Kurt ran to his sewing table for a paper and pencil. Blaine, still on his phone , reached for the same paper and pencil. Both giggled silently as Blaine wandered into his studio. As Kurt jotted down notes, he heard a small beep cut through Dianna's words, indicating another call trying to come through. Kurt bit his lip, jotting down as much information as he could. Dianna talked about as fast as Lucy, but she wasn't quite as forgiving. Luckily, she seemed to love Kurt and his designs, and didn't act like too much of a bitch in his presence.

"Ok, well, yeah, I have Lucy in the morning, you can come in right after...or, yeah, the hour before is fine...I know, her perfume is kind of strong..." Blaine walked in with his phone and a slip of paper in hand just in time to see Kurt roll his eyes.

"Ok, sweetie, see you then...bye..."

Kurt hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

"Is that another order?" Blaine asked, indicating the sheet of paper in Kurt's hands.

"Yes, but I have been sworn to secrecy under pain of death." Kurt folded the paper, placing it carefully in his pocket. "Who was yours?"

Blaine held up the paper in his hands, waving it and smiling slyly as he regarded his boyfriend.

"That was a Ms. Unique from The Dragonfly," Blaine said as he swaggered over to Kurt.

"That drag club in Hollywood?" Kurt's eyes went wide as he grabbed the paper from Blaine's hands.

"Yup," Blaine said. "She would like you to outfit their winter burlesque show. Apparently, it's the highlight of the season." Blaine punctuated the words with dramatic jazz hands. Kurt giggled, looking back at the paper.

"Well, how many of her performers was she thinking?" Kurt asked.

When, Blaine didn't answer, Kurt snapped his head up in confusion. Blaine's sly smile grew wider.

"All of them," he said finally.

"A-all if them?" Kurt stuttered at the thought of making professional costumes for thirty-five performers. Kurt threw himself into Blaine's arms, letting Blaine spin him around as he laughed.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "She wanted to know if the vinyl catsuit came in red vinyl...and triple extra large."

Kurt jumped up and down. Maybe it wasn't runway, but it was something. A whole community coming together in support of him and his talent. Was there anything else he could really ask for?

He looked into Blaine's eyes before kissing him deeply.

Well...one thing, but he was willing to wait for Blaine to ask.

"We _need_ to get to bed," Blaine said, removing himself from Kurt's arms long enough to lock the door and turn off the lights, pulling the drapes closed as he walked past.

Both phones started ringing again. Kurt reached for his, but Blaine took it from his hand. He switched the ringer to off, and set it with his own silently ringing phone on Kurt's cutting table.

"Blaine," Kurt whined, but didn't make a move to retrieve his phone. "What if that's..."

"...a client?" Blaine finished with a smirk. "Of course, it is. And whatever they have to say, good or bad, they can leave on your voicemail. This..." Blaine took Kurt's hand, leading him through the studio, "...is your first lesson in dealing with instant stardom. It's a lesson that I only learned recently."

Kurt smiled at the feeling of Blaine's warm hand in his, pulling him along towards the futon.

"And what's that, oh wise one?" Kurt stopped at the foot of the mattress, and started undressing Blaine, starting by pulling off his V-neck cream colored sweater. Kurt ran his eyes and his hands appreciatively over Blaine's tanned and muscular chest. Blaine reached up to capture Kurt's perfect pink lips, kissing him sweetly.

Blaine pulled away briefly to whisper against Kurt's lips.

"Remembering what's important."

Kurt sighed and smiled.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said, carefully unbuttoning Blaine's pants, sliding them off his legs and tossing them on the floor.

"I love you, too, Kurt Hummel," Blaine whispered, pulling his mostly shirtless boyfriend down onto the mattress.

Kurt lay his body gently over Blaine, kissing sweetly down his neck, lacing their fingers together and pinning Blaine's hands over his head.

"I feel a little under dressed," Blaine laughed quietly, lifting his hips to meet Kurt's still clothed legs, trying to find friction for his growing erection.

"I like you a little under dressed," Kurt whispered against his skin, pinning Blaine's hips to the mattress with the weight of his own body.

"Well, what are you planning on doing with me?" Blaine asked, swallowing hard as Kurt kissed and nibbled delicately around his lips.

"I think for this beautiful futon," Kurt said, sitting up on his knees and running a hand over the soft fabric, "I want you to ride me."

Blaine looked up, his hazel eyes, lust blown and wide as they looked up at Kurt.

"With me straddling you?" Blaine asked, confused.

"Is that okay with you? Kurt asked, leaning back over Blaine's body to kiss across his forehead.

"No...YES...yes, that's fine, it's just we've never done that before."

Kurt traveled down over Blaine's cheek, his lip brushing along the stubbly skin of his cheek.

"Are you sure?" Kurt hummed, his lips tingling as they rubbed along the rough, unshaven cheek. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"No," Blaine said firmly, swallowing hard to dislodged the butterflies fluttering around in his chest. "I won't be. I want to do this...with you."

Kurt claimed Blaine's lips quickly, urgently, trying not to give Blaine any more time to become anxious. He grabbed Blaine hard against his, flipping their positions on the bed. Blaine was surprised to discover just how quickly he had been relocated. He often forgot just how physically strong his boyfriend really was.

Kurt locked Blaine with his clear, sapphire eyes, softening his hungry gaze as he looked over Blaine's body from this new, unexplored angle. He could see Blaine tremble a little beneath the scrutiny of his eyes as he let them travel lazily over his skin, his hands fighting to hand at his sides, not wrap around his waist and cover himself. Kurt knew that in this position Blaine felt vulnerable. Blaine didn't have to tell Kurt, he just always knew.

"You know, I've never seen you like this," Kurt sighed, running his hands up Blaine's thighs, reaching for the waist band of his boxer briefs. He slipped teasing fingers beneath the elastic, running his fingers along the skin underneath. He hear Blaine gasp, felt Blaine's stomach suck in beneath his touch. "You're so beautiful. So strong. I bet you feel amazing like this."

Blaine let out a long, shuddering breath as Kurt carefully pulled down Blaine's underwear. Blaine maneuvered awkwardly to help Kurt slide the piece of clothing off his legs. He wondered how exactly Kurt managed to look so graceful doing this, when Blaine just felt clumsy and stupid. If Kurt thought Blaine looked ridiculous, he definitely didn't let on. In fact, the look in Kurt's eyes spoke volumes about how much Kurt loved Blaine, how much he wanted him, how Kurt only wanted to cherish Blaine's body.

Kurt's eyes were quickly becoming Blaine's favorite feature. They would probably win hands down if they weren't competing against Kurt's strong arms, his miraculously talented fingers, and his incredibly tight ass.

The overwhelming winner overall, however, had to be Kurt's enormous heart, which had managed to break through all of Blaine's walls, wrapping him in a cocoon of his love, and transformed him into the man he was today. The man sitting astride Kurt's hips. The one waiting in excruciating anticipation to make love to his boyfriend.

Blaine felt Kurt take his fingers and lead them to the button of his pants. Blaine slipped the button through the button hole, his fingers trembling a little as he worked, knowing Kurt's eyes followed his every move. He felt ridiculous being so nervous. He had literally been with Kurt hundreds of times, done things some people would consider forbidden or shamefully taboo. So why couldn't he sit in Kurt's lap and undress him? Why couldn't he straddle Kurt's hips while Kurt gazed lovingly up at him?

Blaine felt exposed in this position, and for some reason, that turned him into a fumbling virgin. The button undone, Blaine couldn't manage the zipper. Kurt watched Blaine with a strange expression before covering Blaine's hand with his own, puling down the zipper and lifting up to peel the pants down his legs.

"This really bothers you, doesn't it?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine's eyes darted away. Kurt watched something that he didn't see very often - Blaine the sub emerging to save himself from an uncomfortable situation. Blaine folded in on himself a bit, not wanting to meet Kurt's eyes. Blaine didn't have an answer for his dom.

Kurt couldn't help feeling confused, but it was his job to take care of Blaine, to care for the needs of his sub. Kurt sat up with Blaine in his lap, kissing him hard, knowing how Blaine needed him. Blaine needed Kurt's dominatrix to take over, needed him to put them back on the right path.

"Come on, sweetheart," Kurt purred as he laid Blaine down beneath him, "we're supposed to be celebrating."

Kurt winked down at Blaine as he took Blaine's place, straddling his hips.

Blaine's smile returned, wide and genuine as he looked up Kurt's body. Kurt bit his lip, taking Blaine's cock in his hands.

"There's just one thing missing." Kurt hummed as he stroked Blaine slowly. Blaine arched his back, trying to get closer to his dom as icy tingles of pleasure shot through him.

"And what's that?" Blaine asked breathlessly, fighting to keep his hips still.

Kurt gave Blaine's throbbing cock a firm squeeze.

"This guy." Kurt laughed, looking down at Blaine's length trapped in his fist. "Welcome back, old friend," Kurt teased. "We were starting to wonder where you went."

Blaine chuckled, holding onto Kurt's legs possessively.

"He ran off to that stupid place in my head that tells me you're too good to be true," Blaine confessed. "That one day you're going to realize it and leave me."

Kurt's teasing smile faded as he looked down at Blaine's wistful expression.

"Do you really think that?" Kurt whispered. "Do you really think I'm going to forget how much I love you and leave?"

Blaine shrugged. He took Kurt's hands, twining their fingers together, concentrating on their linked hands.

"Blaine..." Kurt leaned down and pressed a kiss to Blaine's forehead. "Why do you think I fell in love with you?"

Blaine shrugged again with a humorless grin.

"To tell you the absolute truth, I'm not sure I know. I mean, I was kind of an ass when we met."

"Oh, honey," Kurt said smiling, "no one's disputing that."

Blaine chuckled, squeezing Kurt's hands.

"But, once we got past that, you wanted me for _me_ , didn't you?"

Blaine stared at their hands, running his thumbs over Kurt's knuckles.

"You didn't give me ultimatums. You never made me choose. You accepted me for who I am. You gave me time, and you showed me who you really are." Kurt raised Blaine's hands to his lips and kissed them. "I wanted you, Blaine. The first time I saw you, I wanted you. And I'd like to believe you wanted me, too."

Blaine nodded, focusing on some point on Kurt's hip.

"And our life together has been seamless, hasn't it?" Kurt rubbed Blaine's hands against his cheek. "We simply fell in line together, like we were always meant to be together..."

Kurt frowned. He felt like he wasn't quite reaching Blaine. Kurt smiled against the back of Blaine's hands.

"It's never really felt like I was getting to know you..." Kurt quoted quietly, watching Blaine's mouth turn up slowly into a smile, "it's always felt like I was remembering you from something."

Blaine finally looked into Kurt's eyes.

"That sounds like a line," Blaine said.

"I know." Kurt nodded. "But, it's a good line."

Kurt pulled Blaine up by his shoulders, positioning them so that Blaine was sitting with Kurt in his lap. Kurt kissed him, and it felt like the first time - soft and gentle, but with heat and passion. Kurt reached for his pants, pulling a small ampule of lube from the pocket, saying a quick prayer of thanks to the great spaghetti monster in the sky that it hadn't exploded and made a mess.

"Now," Kurt whispered, licking the contours of Blaine's mouth, "you're going to make love to me like this, and you're going to listen while I tell you how amazing you are."

Blaine blushed, his eyes closed while he basked in the warmth of his dom sitting in his lap, while his lover and best friend showered him with praise. He sat still and obedient as Kurt spread lube over his length, while Kurt daintily positioned himself over Blaine's cock and sank down over it.

Blaine's body belonged to this man. _Blaine_ belonged to this man. His everything - his today, his tomorrow, every moment left in his life belonged to him. There was no difference between Kurt and forever. For Blaine, they were one and the same.

Kurt stared deep into Blaine's hazel eyes as he moved, and while Blaine saw the moment Kurt's blue eyes melted from ice to gray steel, Kurt watched as Blaine's whiskey colored eyes sailed through the spectrum, melting into honey, and then firing into molten gold. With their eyes locked, foreheads resting against one another, and hands laced together, they formed a loop. Kurt moved slowly, up and down in an unhurried pace in an effort to keep them together.

"Do you remember..." Kurt began, panting while his legs strained to keep him hovering just above Blaine, "...when I wouldn't kiss you?"

Blaine nodded, eyelids fluttering as he fought to maintain their heated gaze.

"I didn't want to kiss you because..." Kurt swallowed. "I knew if I did...I'd lose everything...because my heart would be yours..."

Blaine moaned, chuckling a bit.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly," Blaine offered. "I wanted you to be mine the minute I agreed to..."

Kurt had to kiss him. He couldn't wait. He couldn't hear another word. He needed Blaine's lips against his.

Kurt laughed a bit into their kiss without breaking the contact. He remembered being a teenager and dreaming about being in love, how quickly he became infatuated with men who were so far out of his reach. His life was filled with memories of one-sided affection. How did he manage to fall in love so quickly with a man who fell for him just as fast?

"Wh-why are you laughing?" Blaine asked, his molten gold eyes cooling with self-doubt.

Kurt shook his head.

"I just realized..." Kurt said, finding Blaine's eyes again, "...that you're my teenage dream."

A lump the size of Blaine's fist formed immediately in his throat. It swelled with every move of Kurt's hips and threatened to choke him, but he smiled regardless knowing he'd die a happy man.

A sob did escape his lips, a single sound that attracted Kurt like a bee to the sweetest honey in the world. Kurt kissed Blaine, couldn't breathe for a moment without him as he felt his orgasm build, knew that a similar fire rose in Blaine's body. Blaine's hands on his skin, scratching lightly with his nails, his gasps and moans into Kurt's mouth, his hips bucking up slightly to meet Kurt's thrusts - they were all signs pointing the way. Only then did Kurt move faster, seeking out his own pleasure, looking to give as much if not more to Blaine.

Making love to Blaine without any barriers - no clothes, no blankets, no condom - was its own kind of magic. Kurt didn't believe in God, but he believed in love, and making love to Blaine had become a religion for Kurt. It gave him comfort, solace, and a feeling of belonging. He wanted to tell Blaine all of this.

As he came, knowing that they were one - that Blaine's heart beat at the same speed, that they breathed as one, and melted against each other at the same moment when Blaine came as well - Kurt managed a simple, "I love you."

For the moment, it was enough.

Blaine lay Kurt down beside him, reluctant to move, to remove himself from Kurt's body. They looked at one another for a long time. There was probably a million things Kurt could have said, but he let as many soft kisses speak for him. With each brush of his lips, Kurt told Blaine he loved him...he needed him...he wanted him...he would always stand by him...always respect him.

Blaine would always have his heart.

They fell asleep with that last kiss from Kurt's lips pressed against Blaine's chest, right above his heart.


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:** _I am so sorry it's taken me so long to update this. No sex here, only story. Sorry. But the good news is that another chapter is hot on the heels of this one. For those of you who haven't seen, there is another story that is full of drabbles based on this story called (wait for it) Take Me Over Drabbles. Some are future fics, some are sweet, some are dirty, all based on the Klaine Advent Drabble challenge on tumblr. I think there are 14 chapters in there so far, so that should tied you over for a while. Take a peek :)_

 

Kurt woke up with a start at 7 A.M., his internal clock screaming at him to get up, get up get up! He had promised Dianna she could come over at eight o'clock and avoid the overwhelming stench of Lucy's favorite retro perfume, _Poison_. Kurt stood, delightfully naked in the cool, early morning air. He loved these serene moments, the quiet before the storm, when he could look over the incredible, sleeping body of his sub, smiling in his sleep, stretch his body, and feel alive and content – happier than he had in a long time. Kurt took a peek at Eva's monitor and saw her still sleeping blissfully, wrapped in the safety and security she seemed to get from Blaine's white shirt. Kurt sighed and smiled. He knew how she felt.

Kurt eschewed putting on his clothes, grabbing the twin iPhones from the cutting table before walking through the studio space with its curtains pulled closed, letting the warmth of the sun that leaked through the cracks and spaces between the fabric heat every inch of his skin. Kurt peeked outside. It looked like it just might turn out to be another beautiful Los Angeles morning. He turned his attention to the phones, remembering how they had started to ring off the hook before his amazing boyfriend had dragged him off to bed. He blinked as he looked at the screens. He closed his eyes, and then opened them again to focus. He was stunned, sure he must be dreaming. He did some quick math in his head and hiccupped. He heard Blaine stirring in the bed, rolling and groaning as he realized his dom had gone.

"Blaine," Kurt called to his sub, eyes glued to the phone, an incredulous grin curling his lips. "I think I'm going to need a receptionist."

* * *

Nick came rushing over to the house, quicker than Kurt expected. Kurt had called and asked for his help sifting through the hundred plus messages Kurt and Blaine had received that morning. Kurt tried to focus 100% of his attention on Dianna's demands for a Gone with the Wind inspired leather dress with floral cutouts, but every once in a while he couldn't help but overhear Nick in the background, conversing in a professional but still adorable-Nicky-Duval way with potential customers and clients.

"Hello," his cheery voice sang from the hidden work space, "this is Nick Duval from Kurt Hummel's studio, returning your call…" Kurt admired Nick's optimism and his never ending energy. Even when Kurt had taken measurements for his last client of the afternoon, his shoulders aching, his fingertips tingling, looking forward to nothing more than a long hot shower with his gorgeous sub, Nick was still going strong.

"Well, I think that's your entire schedule locked in for at least the next three months," Nick said with a smile, handing over Kurt and Blaine's cell phones, along with Kurt's leather bound appointment book.

"Nicky…" Kurt sighed. "Thank you so much for all your help. We have to talk about how I'm going to pay you back for all your help."

"I've been thinking about that…" Nick winked, "and I think this time I'll pick the cupcakes, please." Nick blinked demurely, his hazel eyes sparkling.

"Nicky…" Kurt rolled his eyes, "I can actually pay you, you know."

"Yes, Mr. Famous Fashion Designer, but can I get those cupcakes anywhere else?"

Kurt smirked.

"Yup, that's right," Nick said superiorly. "That makes them worth more than money."

"Fine," Kurt agreed, kissing Nick on the cheek. "Why don't we go in the house and get started. I'll make you the crepes, too, while you wait."

Nick clapped his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Do you think Jeff will see any of those cupcakes?" Kurt asked as they headed toward the door.

Nick looked up at the ceiling and thought.

"Probably not," Nick said. "I'd better give him a call.

His eyes lit up.

"OhmyGod!" he gushed. "I almost forgot."

Nick snatched the appointment book back from Kurt's hand and turned to the inside cover, pointing to a note he had scribbled on a blank page. Kurt took the book back and read it, cocking an intrigued eyebrow.

"Celebrity Fitness?" he read aloud.

"Yeah," Nick said. "You know, that exclusive L.A. gym where the celebs go? It's where J Lo went to lose her signature butt, and then went to get it back."

Kurt nodded.

"Well, the owner himself called to talk to you…twice." Nick put up two fingers for emphasis.

His head buzzing with curiosity, Kurt picked up his iPhone and dialed the number, putting the call on speaker, not wanting to keep Nick in the dark after all his hard work and help.

"Hey guys." Blaine walked through the front door. "Everyone in the house is thinking pizza for dinner, and…"

"Shhhh!" both men shushed Blaine dramatically. Kurt motioned him over as they all kept vigil by the ringing phone.

"It's a great day for fitness at Celebrity Fitness. How may I direct your call?"

Blaine looked between both men, confused.

Nick held his breath.

"Hello," Kurt said in a calm but upbeat voice, "this is Kurt Hummel returning a call from…"

"Oh my goodness, yes," the receptionist interrupted, sounding a little giddy. "Hold on. I'll put you right through."

Blaine, Nick, and Kurt all looked perplexed by the young woman's eager response.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel," an older man's voice, pleasant but strict, addressed him. "I'm Tom Hardy, owner and CEO of Celebrity Fitness. Thank you for returning my call."

"Thank you for calling me, Mr. Hardy." Kurt tried not to sound too over anxious.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I called you. I have a lot I would like to discuss, so let me cut to the chase. I saw those pictures of you in _E! Magazine_ today…" Tom's tone was no-nonsense, definitely a strictly business kind of guy. Kurt definitely appreciated that spending the afternoon listening to the often catty gossip of so many uptight diva types. Still, Kurt couldn't imagine why the owner of the most exclusive celebrity fitness club in all of Southern California would need the services of a couture clothing designer. Suddenly another slightly more disturbing thought entered Kurt's head.

What if he was looking for a dom?

"…and I need to ask you first off…do you still look like that?"

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise.

"Uh…look like what, Mr. Hardy?"

"That photo of you in the black panties…"

Kurt blushed a bit at the straight forward way Mr. Hardy asked that question – no apprehension, no embarrassment.

 _'Oh, God,'_ Kurt thought grimly. _'This guy is looking for a dom!'_

"…is that a recent photo?"

Kurt bit his lip, determined not to sound embarrassed or ashamed.

"Yes, Mr. Hardy. That's a recent picture."

"Excellent," Tom said with a relieved sigh.

_'Oh, dear Lord, here it comes.'_

"Mr. Hummel, I have had almost every client of mine call me this morning and ask me how in the world they can get a body like yours."

Blaine and Nick stared at Kurt who turned beet red straight down to his toes. He wasn't shy of his body, he just wasn't comfortable talking about it like a commodity…or seeing it printed in a nationwide magazine.

"The article says that you were a fitness instructor?" Tom continued.

"Yes…" Kurt drove his fingernails into his palm to keep his voice from shaking.

"Well, I would like to discuss an opportunity with you," Tom said, "as soon as possible, of putting together something I would like to call 'The Kurt Hummel Method'."

Kurt's mouth dropped.

"Mr. Hardy, I'm not sure I'm qualified…"

"You and a team of my best instructors will sit down and put together a fitness routine," Tom continued, undeterred by Kurt's objections, "a combination of methods of your choosing, which our instructors will teach during their group classes. You, of course, being the face of the Kurt Hummel Method, would have the opportunity to take on some of our more discerning celebrity clients at your choosing."

Kurt didn't know what to say. Owning his own business was a dream onto itself, but this opportunity came out of nowhere. He had never imagined himself being the face of anything other than his own clothing line. The thought that famous celebrities had called this morning wanting a body like his was already too much to wrap his mind around. His mouth tried to speak while his mind was still stuck about five steps behind.

"Why don't we arrange a meeting," Tom rushed through the silence. "You can bring your agent, your lawyer, your boyfriend, whomever you like…"

How Hollywood, Kurt thought, that this man assumed he had an agent. Kurt had to smirk, though, that he addressed Blaine as Kurt's 'boyfriend' without calling him by name.

"Sure," Kurt agreed. Having a sudden stroke of inspiration he added, "let me turn you over to my receptionist, Nick Duval. He handles my appointments."

"That'll be just fine," Tom said, sounding a little tight at being handed off to a receptionist. "I look forward to doing business with you."

Kurt handed the call over to Nick, who took the phone off speaker. Kurt pulled Blaine away so that he could squeal like a girl without anyone hearing.

"Do you believe that, Blaine!?" Kurt giggled.

"You mean the part where everyone in Hollywood wants your body?" Blaine growled, pulling Kurt against him and attacking his neck.

"Well, yeah, there's that I guess," Kurt moaned, leaning into Blaine's mouth. "But, how about the part where I become a method?"

"How about the part where he didn't know my name?" Blaine whined against Kurt's skin.

"Um, guys?" Nick said, tapping Kurt on the shoulder. "Could we possibly do this another time? I was promised some cupcakes."

* * *

Dave had the entire contents of his wardrobe laid out on his bed. He had spent a good portion of the afternoon trying to line up his polo shirts with the perfect pair of pants. He had arranged and rearranged ensembles numerous times, and still couldn't find a combination that said, _'I'm strong, confident, and responsible…'_ with a quiet undertone of _'please go out to dinner with me'_.

Dave sighed, dropping down onto the foot of his bed, looking at the row of shoes he had lined up against the closet wall. _Shit._ He hadn't even thought about the shoes…and don't they need to match the belt?

Yup. Dave was fucked.

He considered asking Kurt for help, but embarrassment at admitting he wanted to pursue more than a coffee-date with Adam kept him locked in his room, contemplating shirts.

Dave didn't realize that the tricky business of his wardrobe had kept him secluded for over two hours. Even though he had hoped to suffer quietly, Kurt wondered for over an hour where Dave had run off to and went searching for him.

Of course, he started with Dave's bedroom, so the search hadn't gone on too long.

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Dave?" Kurt's voice called through the door. "Dave? Are you still here?"

Dave considered staying quiet, pretending he had left, and then maybe Kurt would go away, but he really needed someone to talk to.

For one brief and disturbing moment, he cursed Blaine for not being the one to find him first.

He really did not look forward to talking with Kurt about his lack of a love life.

Dave opened the door, holding it wide, silently inviting Kurt inside.

"Hey!" Kurt said. One look at Dave's face told Kurt that something was troubling him. "We were about to make pizza for lunch and we were wondering…"

Kurt saw the clothes lying out on the bed, and knew.

"Ah." Kurt turned to Dave he looked at him hopelessly. "Existential clothes crisis. Been there."

Dave sighed, returning to his spot on the bed.

"So, is this about school…or is this about Adam?"

Dave figured he had been pretty transparent lately, but he still felt that Kurt's ability to read him so well was a talent short of the occult.

"Adam," Dave replied quietly. "I just…I'm happy here, Kurt, I really am. But, things aren't the way they were back home, and I guess I feel…I want what you have, Kurt. I want someone of my own."

"Of course you do, honey," Kurt said, putting a comforting hand on Dave's knee. "You're human, and humans tend to want to have relationships with other humans. It's a worldwide epidemic, Dave."

Dave chuckled, shaking his head.

"I guess I didn't realize just how much I needed this." Dave dropped his head, looking at Kurt's hand on his knee. "For so long, the only people I thought I needed were you and the kids. But, seeing you with Blaine, and watching Nick and Jeff together all the time, I…I feel lonely. But, we've only been here for a few months, and everything seems to be moving so fast. And…"

"And…" Kurt urged quietly, even though he knew what Dave had left to confess.

"I've never had a boyfriend. In fact, you're the only man I've ever…"

Dave blew out a pained breath. He didn't like to think about it, but it was the truth. It had happened, and it was still out there.

"You're the only man I've ever kissed."

Kurt smiled, squeezing Dave's knee and resting his head on his shoulder.

"Dave, we're growing. All of us, every day, growing and become more ourselves. You have to grow, too, and that means finding someone who's going to make you happy."

Dave rested his cheek against Kurt's hair, smelling the familiar scent of vanilla, feeling the silky strands tickle his skin. A long time ago, the thrill that came with those sensations filled him with such an unrequited joy he believed in his heart that Kurt was the ending to his story.

Now, here in this new house, with his new life, he could see potential new chapters waiting to be written, and as wonderful as they seemed, they also scared him to death.

"Dave, you're a wonderful man, an incredible guardian, and Adam would be lucky to have you."

Dave nodded, acknowledging the sentiment.

A knock on the door had both men looking up.

"Hey, guys," Blaine said, surveying the situation with concern on his face. "Is everything okay in here?"

"Fashion emergency," Kurt explained.

Blaine walked in and looked over the clothes on the bed.

"May, I?" he asked, looking at the two sitting on the bed.

"Be my guest," Dave said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Blaine moved a couple of shirts, and rearranged a few pairs of pants, tapping his chin with his finger.

"There," he said finally, opening his arm with a flourish.

Kurt patted Dave's knee as he stood, appraising the clothes the way Blaine had rearranged them out on the bed. Kurt shook his head, putting a condescending hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Sweetie, no. You're not on _Sing_ anymore."

Quickly Kurt grabbed up a neutral beige polo with dark and pale blue stripes just along the top, a pair of khaki slacks, and a darker brown belt. He hooked the hangers of the ensemble together, hanging them from a hook on Dave's closet. He then swiftly pulled a pair of shoes from the line up on the floor and rested them against the door.

"There," Kurt said with triumph. He stood back a bit, looking over the clothes, squinting his eye critically. "This says I'm a strong, confident, responsible, with a subtle underscore of please go out to dinner with me."

Dave stood up, his eyes wide and bright. He grabbed Kurt's cheeks in his hands and pecked a kiss to his forehead.

"Thank you!" he said. Kurt giggled, grabbing Blaine's hand and heading for the door.

"Anytime, Dave."

* * *

Blaine sat on the steps of his old house, watching Sebastian's car roll up the driveway, coming to a stop and parking behind Blaine's sports car. The minute Sebastian stepped out, Blaine could tell he looked different. Blaine hadn't really spent any time around him since the gala fiasco, when he caught Sebastian tied to his hotel suite bed with a P.R. assistant straddling his lap. Blaine hadn't really been to the studio, either. The two of them went from trash talking frenemies to pretty much having nothing to say to one another. So, it intrigued Blaine when Sebastian called, out of the blue, and asked to meet at his house, alone.

The Sebastian who approached him wearing a blue and white striped Ralph Lauren polo and distressed jeans looked like the Sebastian who first got his big break on _Sing_ – just an easy going, charming young man, unsullied, with big dreams of being a star and no ulterior motives whatsoever.

"Hey, Blaine." Sebastian extended a hand in greeting. Blaine stood from the stoop, looking at the offered hand once before taking it. "Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I know you didn't have to."

"Is this about the meeting at the studio next week?"

In between calls from potential clients blowing up Blaine's phone looking for Kurt, Blaine had received a phone call from the studio's lawyers, inviting Blaine to a meeting to discuss the future of _Sing_. Blaine didn't see that the ailing show had much of a future as the majority of its main characters had walked out on production.

"Sort of," Sebastian said, his eyes flicking back toward the house. "Would it be alright if we go inside?"

"Sebastian," Blaine started, putting his hands up defensively, "I have no…"

"It's not like that," Sebastian interrupted, looking down at his shoes. "I saw the pictures…those pictures of your man, Hummel." Sebastian whistled appreciatively through his teeth, shaking his head with a sly grin. Blaine glared at him murderously.

"I didn't know you read gossip mags, Bas," Blaine quipped.

"I don't," Sebastian offered, suddenly looking bashful. "Chandler does."

Blaine's hazel eyes went wide, a playful smirk twisting his lips.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Blaine saw the slight blush coloring Sebastian's cheeks and knew. "You and the P.R. guy? From the gala?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sebastian said. "Let it out. I deserve it."

Blaine nodded.

"Yeah, you did deserve it," Blaine said. "You deserved to find someone who would love you for you. The real you. Not the asshole you pretend to be."

Sebastian scoffed.

"It's not all pretend," Sebastian admitted with a fair amount of shame, "but that's why I'm here. If you let me inside, I'll solve a mystery for you."

"What, you're going to perform magic?" Blaine teased, leading Sebastian to the door.

"Yup," Sebastian joked, breezing past Blaine. "I'm going to show you how Brad got that picture of Hummel on the patio."

Blaine felt his insides boil as Sebastian walked into the house, straight through to the backyard, reached beneath an ornamental bush, and pulled out a tiny camera, nestled in a housing that made it look like a rock.

Blaine stormed up to the taller man, his face red, his eyes glaring.

"Before you unleash on me," Sebastian said, handing the device over to Blaine, "I knew about the camera, but I didn't put it there."

"Then who did, Bas?" Blaine asked, though he could certainly hazard a guess.

"How about a certain vengeful ex-girlfriend?" Bas said. Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"And how do you…"

"Pillow talk," Sebastian answered quickly. Blaine wasn't surprised. Just before he met Kurt, Blaine had suspected that Mia and Sebastian had taken a step beyond being bitchy friends, but he never cared enough to acknowledge it or be jealous of it. In fact, at the time, it excited him to think of the opportunities that might present themselves if the three of them got together. Blaine mentally slapped himself. What an idiot he had been.

He much preferred his life now.

"She put it there to get dirt on Kurt?" Blaine's brow furrowed, wondering when she would have gotten the chance. Maybe when he was in San Diego…

"Nope. Brad had her install that before you ever went to that autograph signing. He's been getting dirt on you…" Sebastian shrugged, "…on the both of us, actually, for quite some time now."

Blaine held the camera tight in his hands, throttling the faux rock till his hands shook. Sebastian watched him, trying to read the look in his eyes.

"What are you thinking, Blaine?" Sebastian asked.

Blaine looked at Sebastian with a mixture of gratitude and sympathy. They all had such high hopes going into this…even Mia. What a nightmare their dream turned into. At least Blaine got Kurt out of it…and Sebastian got Chandler.

"I'm thinking that I'd better talk to my lawyer."

* * *

More than a week had gone by since his internship began, and Dave started to feel disheartened. He still didn't have a mentor, and had not been assigned a client. Even Adam seemed to be avoiding him. He hadn't even shown up for most of the classes. Maybe Kurt's pictures in _E! Magazine_ , though instrumental in jumpstarting Kurt's exploding career, had the unexpected side effect of destroying his Dave's chances. He sat in his seat, going over his books, his notes, his syllabus, trying to look busy even though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone.

Dave considered just dropping the internship for this semester and applying again next semester, but so many people had stuck their necks out for him, handing him opportunities he wouldn't be able to earn otherwise, he didn't want to give up.

He opened his business management book, ready to read and get ahead in at least one of his classes, when the door to the classroom flying open made everyone turn around in their chairs. Adam rushed in, his arms filled with files and papers, a pencil clenched between his teeth. Dave blushed when Adam's eyes immediately sought his out, locking with his gaze. Adam smiled around his pencil, nodding in Dave's direction, before bounding down the stairs to the professor's desk.

Dave watched Adam deposit the stack of files and papers onto the desk, leaning over the older man to talk with him privately, in hushed tones. No one else seemed interested in Adam's sudden and unexplained entrance, so the low hum that accompanied other groups talking amongst themselves resumed. Dave strained his ears in an attempt to overhear their conversation while simultaneously trying to look absorbed in reading the aspects of business management.

He gave up, especially when it seemed the two men might be in conference for the entire class.

_'When trying to obtain a degree in business, it's important, first, to try and isolate the…'_

Dave had read the sentence twenty seven times, and it still didn't make any sense, so he gave up. The hour was over. He had other things to do than to sit around, mooning over a man who took him out for coffee twice, and was obviously not interested.

Oh, and he still didn't have a client. Dave scolded himself, realizing that should have been his foremost concern.

"Hey, Dave!" Adam called, bouncing over as Dave gathered up his books.

"Hey," Dave responded with a polite smile, trying to not look heart broken.

"I have wonderful news," Adam said in a sing song voice. Dave raised his eyebrows, blushing a bit at the slightly heated look in Adam's beautiful blue eyes.

"I've got a client for you."

Adam held a manila folder out toward Dave, motioning for him to take it. Dave's eyes widened as he took the file from Adam. Dave put down his books and opened the folder, flipping through the pages – transcripts, game stats, newspaper articles; the article on top spotlighting a young, African-American woman in the midst of a jump shot.

"Her name's Letisha," Adam said, highlighting the key points for Dave. "Best female point guard in the college league…possibly ever. She's graduating college in the coming two years, but she wants to go pro." Dave looked up at Adam just as he bit his lips and grimaced slightly, taking in a sharp breath through his teeth, obviously easing into something big. "Unfortunately, no one wants to touch her."

Dave furrowed his brow.

"Why not?" Dave asked incredulously, looking back over her stats. "She looks incredible."

"Because up until about a few years ago, she..." Adam reached out and turned a few pages in the file in Dave's hands, "was a _he_."

Dave's eyes went wide. Then he nodded, ducking his head.

"I get it," Dave said, closing the file. "You gave this to me…because of the pictures. You chose me for this assignment because of Kurt."

Dave's heart went hard, cold. He had no problem handling Letisha as a client. What she did with her life didn't concern him. He would support her, no matter what decision she made. But he didn't know how he felt about being stereotyped, and if he was, considering how long it had taken Adam to find him a client that 'fit the bill', he would be hard pressed for work.

"I will be honest," Adam began, ducking a bit to catch Dave's gaze, "those pictures were the final piece of the puzzle that told me you might have the particular skills needed to handle this with tact and dignity. But, and I say this with all sincerity…" Adam closed the space between them, eyes flicking momentarily to Dave's lips as he spoke, "…I chose you because you are the smartest, kindest, most compassionate person I have ever met."

Dave started to blush.

"Well, I might as well," Dave said, rolling his eyes mockingly. "It doesn't seem like anyone else is chomping at the bit to work with me."

"Oh," Adam said, his face bright, "they all were."

"What?" Dave looked at the other groups gathered around, some glancing back at him with odd looks.

"Yup. You are by far the most qualified person in the room. You were everyone's first choice."

Dave started to stammer.

"Wh-why didn't they say anything?"

"Because..." Adam put a hand on Dave's shoulder and leaned in, "I told them to back off. I told them you were all mine."

Dave's heart hammered in his chest. Adam's pert lips hovered just kissing distance away.

"Come on," Adam said, taking Dave's books out of his hands and grabbing his arm, "let's go help our girl."

_Our girl._

Dave just about died.


	45. Chapter 45

It started to seem that as suddenly as Blaine Anderson had dropped into Kurt’s life, he had started to drift away. Kurt didn’t notice it so much as first, or maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge it. If he had to sit down and think, put a finger on the time and date, then he would have to say it started the day Kurt got the call from Tom Hardy about developing a fitness program for Celebrity Fitness chains all over California and New York.

After that phone call, the three men left Kurt’s studio to go back to the house so Kurt could make Nick his promised cupcakes. With a strange, cloudy look in his eyes, Blaine had pulled Nick aside and whispered in his ear. Kurt turned when he reached the patio door in time to see Nick’s face fall; his expression, Kurt thought, looked concerned and a little disturbed. The rest of the afternoon, Nick seemed distracted, pulling out the notepad he kept in his pocket and jotting things down secretly while he worked some more with Barbra on the texture of Midge’s hair.

Kurt didn’t want to ask Nick about it. He didn’t want to force Nick to break his friend’s confidence. Nick and Blaine had been besties way longer than Nick and Kurt had, after all.

That night Kurt could tell Blaine was distracted. Kurt pulled out every trick he had in his arsenal to make Blaine submit, and it had worked, too, but with rather less than spectacular results. But the day had been long and eventful. Kurt figured Blaine was simply tired. Besides, sex couldn’t be life changing every time. A rut every once in a while could be expected.

Blaine accompanied Kurt to the meeting at Celebrity Fitness the following day. Thad, Blaine’s agent, had agreed to take Kurt on as a client, as did Wes, Blaine’s lawyer.

Blaine remained quiet, standing politely by as everyone present fawned over Kurt. No one really went out of their way to address Blaine, but Blaine didn’t act too perturbed. Kurt tried not to let it bother him. This was, after all, Kurt’s moment in the spotlight. He deserved it. But the more that Kurt thought about it, the more Kurt worried. Blaine wasn’t usually accustomed to sitting on the sidelines. Even if he hadn’t been a big television star, playing the wallflower wasn’t in Blaine’s nature. The entertainment magazines had pretty much confirmed what people already knew; _Sing’s_ days were numbered, and its headlining star, Blaine Devon Anderson, had no immediate projects to fall back on. Blaine didn’t want to release news about his potential upcoming album until he had most of the tracks done.

Kurt tried his hardest to concentrate on the proceedings, but throughout the whole meeting, Kurt watched Blaine looking a little dismissed, sitting in the corner, mostly texting on his phone or looking things up on his iPad. Occasionally, he would glance up at Kurt and give him a reassuring smile, bright and sincere, even blow him a kiss before returning to the screen in front of him.

Even so, Kurt’s heart sank. It almost hurt to see him like this. He didn’t want to lose Blaine. Not now. Not ever. If this was the price for his success, he would give it all back. But in the back of his mind, his dominatrix seethed at that thought.

He shouldn’t have to give up success in order to keep Blaine.

Kurt felt torn.

For the next few days, Blaine spent little time in his recording space in Kurt’s studio. If that wasn’t odd enough, there were frequent secret escapades off to his old house. Kurt felt certain that Blaine thought he had him fooled, but Kurt had had a cheating boyfriend once before. He knew the signs. Blaine had told him on numerous occasions that he needed to meet with Kevin and some other cast members from _Sing_ to discuss the meeting with the studio execs and the demands they wanted to make – demands he had yet to fill Kurt in on.

One afternoon, Kurt drove to the old house in search of Eva’s therapy ball from Blaine’s game room. Kurt hadn’t realized until then that some of these so-called ‘meetings’ included Sebastian…more specifically, just Blaine and Sebastian alone. Kurt saw Sebastian’s silver sports car and his dominatrix went into overdrive. He grabbed out an emergency blade he kept in his glove box and slashed the two front tires of Sebastian’s car, before climbing back into his Honda and speeding away for home.

After that, Kurt stopped speaking to Blaine. He stopped sleeping in their room at night. He claimed to have an overwhelming load of work to finish, and spent late evenings into the early morning in his studio. Afterwards he would return to the house to shower, and then start straight for making breakfast. Kurt didn’t touch Blaine…wouldn’t kiss him. Unwilling to deal with anymore heartbreak, he froze Blaine out entirely.

Blaine realized with chagrin and regret that Kurt knew he’d been hiding something.

His gorgeous angel…his beautiful and fierce black swan, had shut down on him entirely.

The time to come clean was long overdue.

 

* * *

Blaine was an epic failure at keeping secrets, even for an actor, especially not from his dom and one true love. But Blaine couldn’t surprise Kurt without keeping a few secrets, and he had hoped this one would turn out to be a doozy.

Blaine had had a spark of inspiration while watching Kurt’s meteoric rise to success. First, the clothing line, and then the fitness club, and Blaine just knew that Isabelle Wright had more exciting opportunities in store for Kurt.

Kurt had arrived. Here he was, large and in charge, realizing every dream he ever had.

Blaine couldn’t be prouder.

Kurt had taken everything that life threw at him – the hate, the ridicule, all the attempts to force him to bow – and he stood tall in its midst and came out triumphant.

Blaine’s beautiful black swan was conquering the world.

Kurt’s overwhelming success had Blaine terrified.

Blaine wanted Kurt to be successful. He wouldn’t deny Kurt anything. But in this new life, where everyone made demands of Kurt’s time, where did Blaine fit in?

He felt guilty for thinking that Kurt’s newfound fame would tear them apart, but even now, he missed his dom. He missed their nights alone when they could spend the entire evening playing, whole spans of time where a creative Kurt dominated Blaine, took control of his body, broke him, made him submit. The house with all its occupants and the tiny space in the studio didn’t exactly offer them much room.

That was when the perfect idea hit him – hit him so hard he had to move forward with it immediately.

He couldn’t implement it himself though. He didn’t even know where to start. Thank God Nick had been in the right place at just the right time. Blaine filled him in immediately on the details and sweetened the deal with Nick’s all-time favorite line – spare no expense.

When all was said and done, Blaine had planned a special night for him and Kurt together; a huge unveiling, as it were. But Kurt had stopped talking to him, barely looked at him. Blaine’s dom had disappeared on him, and to say Blaine felt desolate at the thought of his lover, his dom, his best friend deserting him would have been a gross understatement.

Every piece of Blaine hurt – his body ached for Kurt, his soul burned. He felt lost and abandoned.

Blaine knew he could explain, knew he could make things right, but he didn’t even know how he would get Kurt out to his old house for the reveal. So in an act of utter and complete desperation, he did the only thing he could think of...he stole Kurt’s favorite Alexander McQueen sweater, told Dave where he was headed, and ran away quickly before Kurt could throttle him to death.

It didn’t take Kurt long to notice the absence of his beloved sweater, which he kept hanging in a special garment bag, in his closet, in the exact same spot since he had bought it. It was the first thing Kurt had bought for himself after he sold his first couture gown.

“Blaine Devon Anderson!” Kurt roared as he marched through the house. “Give me my sweater!”

Maybe Blaine was playing games, but Kurt certainly was done with them.

Dave chuckled from his seat on the sofa.

“He’s not here,” Dave answered, not lifting his eyes from the sports section of the paper.

Kurt turned steely eyes on him.

“Then where is he?” Kurt glared until the sensation of heat prickling Dave’s skin forced him to look up, hazel eyes matching Kurt’s stare.

“You know where he is.”

Kurt rolled his eyes with exaggerated anger. Dave shook his head. He dropped his paper on the cushion beside him, stood quickly, and headed Kurt off before he could storm out the door. Dave took Kurt’s arms and stopped his forward momentum. Kurt glanced away in frustration.

“Let me go, Dave,” Kurt muttered angrily, knowing he probably couldn’t get by his mountainous friend unless he released his grip.

“No,” Dave replied firmly. “I need you to take a second and calm down before you run off stubborn and half-cocked like you always do.”

“You don’t understand,” Kurt argued.

“You’re right,” Dave countered. “I don’t. All I do know is that the two of you seem to attract drama like honey attracts flies. And whatever you’re angry about has been stewing for days so I know it’s not about a sweater.”

Dave sighed, but he wouldn’t release Kurt. He stared into Kurt’s eyes, watching the fire cool beneath his own soothing gaze.

“Kurt,” Dave said, rubbing Kurt’s arms gently, “Blaine loves you.”

“Then why is he leaving me?” Kurt barked back, tears threatening to fall.

Dave stepped back in shock.

“Did…did he tell you that he was leaving you?”

Kurt’s anger ebbed some more. He fidgeted with his clasped hands sheepishly.

“No…” he started, looking anywhere but Dave’s eyes. “But he didn’t have to.”

Dave dropped his head.

“Kurt, you know what I’m going to say, right?” Dave raised his eyes a touch, a small smile crinkling the edges.

Kurt deflated, his need to argue dissipating in the light of his friend’s quiet rationale.

“That I should talk to him?” Kurt supplied. “That I should give him the benefit of the doubt?”

Dave nodded.

“I have watched that man walk around here like a kicked puppy for days,” Dave said, looking Kurt fully in the face again. Dave swallowed hard. “You did a bad thing, Kurt.”

“What?” Kurt huffed out a frustrated breath. “Being angry at the almighty Blaine?”

Dave shook his head, his expression bordering on anxious. He had never even thought of talking to Kurt about the particular aspects of his relationship with Blaine, or the lifestyle he seemed to favor past the job he took.

“For denying your sub.”

The sound in Dave’s voice froze Kurt’s blood. He looked back at Dave with disbelief. Never in a million years did Kurt imagine he would hear Dave say those words.

“Isn’t that what you said a good dom never does, Kurt?”

Kurt’s eyes went wide. His mouth dropped. His cheeks glowed red. He felt shame heat every inch of his frozen body.

“Look,” Dave released Kurt. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously with his hand, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I don’t really know anything about…” Dave gestured vaguely with his free hand, “…doms and subs and how that all works. But I know that after you got that job, you changed. You became a different person than the one I knew…”

Dave dropped down onto the couch. Kurt sat beside him, putting a reassuring hand on his knee, silently prompting Dave to continue. Dave put a much larger hand over Kurt’s and squeezed gently.

“You guys have a…special relationship…” Dave said, trying as hard as possible to be delicate. Kurt smiled at Dave’s blushed, wondering what exactly Dave thought he and Blaine did when they were alone together. He would have to ask him someday…maybe when they were all tipsy and couldn’t be held accountable for the questions or the answers. “It’s complicated…and…and different…with layers…”

Dave turned and looked at Kurt, his eyes pleading with Kurt to stop him from having to explain in more detail. Kurt smiled and nodded.

“You shut him out, Kurt,” Dave chastised gently. “And you know how he feels about being abandoned.”

Kurt dropped his head into his hands.

“Shit!” Kurt breathed out sharply. “How could I be so stupid!?”

“Yes,” Dave said, patting Kurt lightly on the back. “Stubborn and stupid. So go find your man and fix this.”

Kurt stood, running his hands down his pants to straighten the wrinkles. He looked down at his sage friend.

“How did you get so good at that?” Kurt asked. “Solving our problems?”

“I don’t know,” Dave shrugged. “I think that the things you guys fail to see are sometimes really obvious to me.”

“Really?” Kurt challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that you’re both being a couple of drama llamas and you really just need to sort this out. So go find your man, have some crazy sex like you always do, and then come home and go back to normal, okay?”

Kurt dissolved into a fit of high-pitched giggles as Dave slunk back across the couch to hide behind his newspaper again.

“Okay, Dave,” Kurt sang, grabbing his keys and heading towards the door, “I’m going to find Blaine and have some crazy sex now!”

Dave blushed furiously as he sank into the couch, sighing in relief when he heard Kurt’s car pull out of the driveway.

 

* * *

Kurt had felt confident and self-assured when he left Dave and the house, but the closer he got to Blaine’s, the more a feeling of cold trepidation started to seep into his skin. What if Dave was wrong? What if Blaine _was_ cheating on Kurt? Kurt had done the wrong thing by ignoring Blaine for sure, but Kurt couldn’t survive having his heart broken…not again.

Blaine’s sports car was the only car parked in front of the house when Kurt arrived, and Kurt silently thanked the spaghetti god in the sky for small favors.

Kurt took a moment to look at the house and sighed. For as big as the house was, it screamed ‘bachelor pad’. The thought of this being Blaine’s bachelor pad made Kurt physically ill. It reminded Kurt that in his past Blaine had brought all of his conquests here – Sebastian…Mia…even himself. And who knew how many others. Kurt had never thought to ask.

It had never concerned him before.

Blaine opened the door for him before Kurt even turned off the engine. Blaine eyed Kurt as he stepped out of the Honda, standing straight, standing tall, trying his best to look confident.

“I…I didn’t think you would come,” Blaine stuttered, standing aside to let Kurt breeze by. Kurt’s heart melted at the sight of Blaine – a little hunched over, eyes glued to the floor, hands restlessly reaching for Kurt then pulling back.

“Dave stopped me before I left,” Kurt said with a small smile. “He wanted to talk about…something…”

Kurt watched Blaine carefully close and lock the door behind him. Blaine looked Kurt over quietly, starting with his slightly damaged coif, to the long pale column of his neck, along his shoulders, down the fabric of his meticulously tailored shirt tucked into form fitting, stylish slacks. Blaine smiled at the outfit. Kurt made most of his own clothes, regardless of his obsession with high fashion, but Blaine preferred the clothes Kurt made more. They were eclectic, often daring, and a huge part of what made Kurt an original.

Kurt leaned in toward Blaine’s silence.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Kurt asked, trying to sound nonchalant but quietly begging for a confession, a question, a rant, whatever Blaine wanted. The anticipation made Kurt’s heart stop in his chest.

“No, not anything major,” Blaine said, trying to diffuse the tension with small talk. “I…I just wanted to talk with you about plans…for this house.” Blaine looked up and around, as if inspecting the ceiling. “I know you asked me a while ago what I wanted to do with it.”

Kurt nodded, breaking away from their awkward stance to walk across the living room floor.

“And what did you come up with?”

Blaine watched Kurt move. Kurt twirled around the hard wood floor in lazy circles, recalling the many nights of slow dancing spent in this room, with the dim light on Kurt’s glowing skin, and whatever romantic melody they chose to play wafting through the air.

“I want to keep it…” Blaine said, swallowing hard. “You know, for sentimental reasons.”

Kurt smiled, running his hand along the reflective surface of the piano.

“Sentimental reasons?” Kurt asked with a suggestive glint in his eye.

“Yeah,” Blaine continued, trying to find a way to phrase his next thought correctly. “I’m hoping to use it as kind of an…escape.”

Kurt’s head snapped up, his blue eyes immediately turning icy and hard. Blaine took a hesitant step backward.

“I knew it!” Kurt said sharply. “I knew you were doing something shady behind my back!”

Blaine was taken aback. He knew Kurt might be confused, maybe upset, but he hadn’t expected such an immediate and harsh reaction.

“No…” Blaine raised his hands defensively. “No, Kurt. You don’t understand…”

“All those so-called ‘secret meetings’,” Kurt said, stalking back over to him, emphasizing the words with his hands.

“Kurt…”

Kurt’s face grew red as he backed Blaine against the wall.

“And all that time you spent alone with Sebastian!”

“How did you…” Blaine’s brow furrowed in confusion as Kurt bore down on him. “I was going to tell you!”

Kurt reared back and slapped Blaine, hitting him hard in the face. Blaine’s head whipped to the side, his hand reaching up to cup his bruised cheek, and when he turned back, Kurt was infuriated to see a fire simmering in Blaine’s eyes.

“Not an escape for me, Kurt,” Blaine said calmly, almost purring. “I would never come here without you. I want it as an escape for _us_.”

Kurt’s temper cooled a bit.

“What do you mean,” Kurt asked, his eyes narrowing as he spoke, “an escape for us?”

Blaine grinned wolfishly.

“You weren’t the only one doing a little remodeling.” Blaine took Kurt by the shoulders and led him to the bedroom.

Kurt huffed out a frustrated breath.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Blaine,” Kurt said.

“We’ll see about that,” Blaine muttered with a sly smile curling his lips.

Blaine stopped Kurt at the door. He reached past him for the knob, and turned it, pushing the door open.

Kurt poked his head curiously inside, and gasped. He stepped inside the now unfamiliar looking room. He walked slowly, mouth agape, eyes wide and smiling.

Blaine had remade the entire room into a playroom for him and Kurt. Kurt had gone to a few BDSM clubs that had individual rooms for customers to use, but he had never seen anything like this. The walls had been painted a deep purple – much deeper than the orchid colored walls of Kurt’s bedroom – and overlaid in black to look like lace. There were wooden brackets along the wall, each holding a different toy, a different instrument – most of them from Kurt’s own collection. Kurt looked over each one, in most cases with a brand new counterpart hanging alongside it. There were so many lining the walls of the room that he actually almost blushed. He went over each item one by one - different whips, crops, paddles, cat of nine tails, chains of almost every size link, rope, and a wooden cabinet filled with vibrators, dildos, cock rings, prostate wands, and various other toys he had only thought of using before.

Kurt giggled as he walked through Blaine’s completely transformed bedroom. The only familiar piece of furniture Kurt could see was the monstrous bed, but this, too, had a new, specially made frame of much stronger wood, the posts embedded with metal hooks and rings, and above it hung a gigantic mirror.

Kurt didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or kiss Blaine hard on the mouth. He wanted to lean towards kissing, but he abstained in favor of talking.

 “Are you kidding me?” he exclaimed with a mixture of joy and awe. “Who would you even hire to…” Kurt caught the look in Blaine’s eyes and realization hit him.

“Nick?”

Blaine nodded.

“Yup. He was scared to death that he wasn’t going to get this right. He stressed out so much, I almost felt bad for asking him.”

Then it all made sense, the look of dread on poor Nick’s face when Blaine whispered in his ear, how uncharacteristically quiet he had been, the constant jotting down of frantic notes in his notepad.

Poor Nicky. Kurt owed him some more cupcakes for sure.

Kurt ran his fingertips over a rack on the wall holding an assortment of collars and leashes.

“Well, that would explain the over-abundance of toys.” Kurt smirked, noting that there was a collar in almost every shape, size, and color, not to mention spiked, o-ringed, leather, vinyl…the list went on and on. Kurt turned back to Blaine who was watching him hopefully.

“Why did you do this?” Kurt cocked an eyebrow at his sub. Blaine ducked his head, smiling.

“Because I miss this,” he replied bashfully. “Our sex life at home is great and all…but I miss being with you…like this.” Blaine gestured at the room with both hands.

Kurt lowered his eyes, worrying a spot on the floor with the toe of his shoe.

“What about Sebastian?” Kurt’s voice fell to the floor, almost a whisper, but Blaine caught it. He sighed.

“Kurt…” Blaine moved forward, hands outstretched, trying to explain, “…Brad…he had my house bugged.”

Kurt looked back up at him, eyes wide.

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

“That picture in the magazine…of you on the patio…”

Blaine motioned for Kurt to follow him back out to the living room. Kurt watched Blaine walk to the piano and pick up a rock that rested on the lid. It looked heavy, but Blaine picked it up with one hand as though it weighed nothing. He handed it to Kurt. Kurt inspected it, noticing how unusually light it was. He peered closely at it. He saw the lens mounted in it, and through the lens he could see the small camera inside.

“Sebastian knew about this one,” Blaine explained. “He came here and showed it to me. Apparently, Brad had Mia put it out in the backyard. Sebastian had one, too. But when he got back home, his boyfriend Chandler…”

Kurt raised a questioning eyebrow.

Blaine waved his hand dismissively.

“I’ll explain about that later…anyway, Chandler found a bunch more, and microphones, too. They both came over to try and help me find the rest. I ended up coming home late that night because someone slashed his tires.”

Kurt bit his lip, looking quickly down at his feet so Blaine wouldn’t catch his sheepish grin. But Blaine did see it, and he laughed.

“Oh, Kurt.” Blaine crossed to Kurt, and Kurt took Blaine into his arms. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry. I was trying so hard to do something romantic and special, and I messed up. The minute you got upset I should have just told you.”

“No, no. I should have asked,” Kurt said apologetically. “I shouldn’t have been so suspicious.”

Kurt looked meaningfully into Blaine’s soft, whiskey-colored eyes.

“I shouldn’t have shut you out.”

Blaine melted into Kurt’s arms, filling himself for the first time in a while with his dom’s overwhelming warmth and acceptance. Kurt held Blaine tight against him. He never realized how many holes had been punched into his soul when he had stopped being with Blaine until he had Blaine in his arms again, filling them, mending the rifts and bringing him peace. Kurt sighed into the smell of cedar in Blaine’s hair and on his body, the feeling of Blaine’s lightly gelled curls tickling his cheek.

“What about the meeting with Kevin and the cast?” Kurt asked, trying to ease back into their comfortable routine of hugging and talking, which eventually led to kissing and touching, and just being in love. “What were you guys talking about so much?”

“Ah,” Blaine said, looking up into Kurt’s ice blue eyes, “that I can’t tell you.”

Kurt was about to object, but Blaine kissed him, softly and sweetly, the touch of Blaine’s lips against Kurt’s igniting a spark that had lain dormant for far too long. “It’s an honest to God surprise…a good one…and it involves you.”

Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Okay,” Kurt relented. “I’ll wait.”

Blaine squeezed Kurt tight, resting his head against Kurt’s shoulder. They started to sway, the way they always seemed to sway slowly when they found themselves in each other’s arms, dancing to music that only they heard, that only seemed to start playing when they were alone together.

“So…are we good?” Blaine ventured.

Kurt chuckled.

“Yes, Blaine, we’re…wait…”

Kurt looked down into Blaine’s face, his eyes narrowing to slits.

“Where’s my sweater?”

“I hung it on a hook behind the back seat of my car while I drove down here and now it’s hanging in the closet.” Blaine gestured with his chin in the direction of the bedroom.

Kurt kissed Blaine enthusiastically on the forehead.

“Then yes, Blaine, we’re okay.”

Blaine sighed, his eyes lighting up with the same simmering flame Kurt saw when he had slapped Blaine across the face.

“So…what do you want to do now?” Blaine asked.

Kurt knew what Blaine was really asking for.

Kurt could tease Blaine. Make it seem like he had no clue what Blaine wanted, but he had neglected his beautiful sub for too long.

“Well, we could go try out that new playroom of ours.” Kurt’s eyes drifted slowly in the direction of the bedroom door. Blaine almost vibrated completely out of Kurt’s arms in his eagerness to sprint across the room.

Kurt stopped Blaine just at the threshold, pushing him roughly into the door jam, and claiming his lips, biting as hard as he dared between soft, gentle kisses until Blaine squirmed, rolling his wrists where Kurt pinned his hands together against the wood, whimpering at each possessive bite. Kurt released Blaine, looking down at him with dominant, predatory eyes. Blaine’s swollen lips stayed pursed together where Kurt left them, swollen and red. Blaine’s eyes shimmered with an almost palpable heat, burning with his longing and desire to be owned.

“You know how I want you,” Kurt whispered. He turned and walked away inside the room to the closet, looking for some appropriate armor to wear. Blaine’s heart soared.

Those were the exact words he had been waiting so long to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry that I cut it before the sex, but I try not to put sex and angst in the same chapter, but I plan to have the next chapter up by the weekend.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N:** _First of all, let me say how tremendously and deeply sorry I am that it has taken me this long to update. I am in no way abandoning this fic. It is very near and dear to my heart. This chapter originally took me two weeks to write and it was absolutely perfect. But if you follow my other fics or follow me on tumblr you’ll know that malware devastated my hard drive, and dissolved several of my fic files, including what was left of this story. I tried to retrieve them, but eventually I had to admit defeat. I took a little time to mourn this story since the ending I had originally wrote was perfect. I rewrote it from memory, and I believe that I have managed to maintain a good 90% of the original. So if you are still with me after all this time, thank you and bless you. I so appreciate your loyalty to this story._

_Another note about this chapter – a few things to remember. Kurt and Blaine are in a healthy, consensual dom/sub relationship. Even when Blaine gets worried or nervous about the things Kurt tries, he fully trusts Kurt, and that is the essence of why their relationship works. This d/s chapter shows a little darker side to Kurt. It’s more of the persona he used working as a dominatrix. He is more a creature of his environment in this chapter. Warnings for dom/sub situations, bondage, spanking, cock ring, testicle cuffs, and heart beat fetish. (P. S. Heart beat fetish sounds daunting and gross, but it’s really not. In this chapter, it’s simply the idea of being turned on by listening to the sound of someone else’s heart beating.)_

_I hope you enjoy._

 

The atmosphere of the room changed the moment Kurt closed the door behind him. Blaine stood in the silence and took it all in. He had given the room a once over when Nick had finished with the renovation, but Blaine had been so excited about getting Kurt over to see it that he never really took the time to appreciate all the work his friend had done – the research that went in to making it perfect, all of the meticulous details. Blaine didn’t even know what was in half of the drawers in the new dresser. Some of the instruments he caught a glimpse of he had no idea how Kurt would use.

There in lay the thrill.

The room seemed darker, and in a way, a bit more foreboding than it had before, but not in an ominous or creepy way. The dark colored walls and the rows of sinister looking implements hanging from them added to the anticipation, the excitement of what was yet to come.

Blaine stripped his clothes off slowly, savoring that excitement. He knew his dom, knew that Kurt would take his time preparing. He always did. Kurt had private rituals with regard to putting on his armor that Blaine never witnessed, and in a way that helped set the mood. Kurt’s control began when he decided to dominate Blaine; from the moment the words left his lips and he went off by himself to change.

Blaine turned getting undressed for Kurt into a ritual of his own. With each article of clothing he removed, he opened himself up to the atmosphere around him, becoming a creature of pure sensation, one who thrived on stimulation, who craved touch, but also craved deprivation. Usually, he breathed in deeply and cleared his mind, but it was too difficult not to dwell on everything that had brought him to this point, all the things that had changed for him in mere months.

Before he met Kurt he was cocky, self-centered…and so terribly alone. He convinced himself otherwise, of course, bouncing back and forth from Mia’s bed to Sebastian’s bed. He almost had himself fooled that he had the best of all worlds – a hot girlfriend, an even hotter semi-boyfriend, and the life of a bachelor all rolled together. No responsibilities, no cares…

…no happiness, no family.

He drank more than he would have admitted to anyone who cared to ask.

A life that he thought had structure and order, between his constant work-schedule and his carefully planned promotional/charity work was actually spiraling out of control.

He needed an anchor, and part of him had been searching for one.

He found Kurt.

Now he had love, he had a family, children he adored and a best friend he never realized he wanted so much.

Blaine smiled as he knelt to the floor, naked, waiting, wanting. He felt the darkness press in around him, but it was an erotic sensation, removing what was once comfortable and safe and adding mystery.

Kurt was nothing if not creative, and Blaine was counting on that.

Kurt left Blaine kneeling on the floor for close to an hour, until his knees ached and his back became stiff from staying bowed. Blaine focused on the grain of the wood floor, following the flow of the swirl patterns over and over, suspending his thoughts in a trance to keep from accidentally falling asleep. Blaine’s whole body became hypersensitive while he waited for his dom to appear. No matter how hard he tried to slow the racing of his heart, it seemed to beat faster.

The doorknob turned. Blaine felt it before he heard it, and every muscle, every nerve stood at attention. Kurt stepped into the room, and Blaine could tell that Kurt’s mood had shifted by the sound of his strut when his heels hit the floor. Blaine only saw a hint of black ice as Kurt walked toward him and he knew his black swan had returned, his body wrapped in that same luscious vinyl cat suit that Blaine got to polish with his tongue; the one that clung to Kurt’s body like sin and accentuated every muscle, every curve, and most especially the impressive bulge that told Blaine that his dom desired him, desired his body, desired his submission.

Blaine had feared that too much had changed between them, but in some ways nothing had changed.

Kurt walked by Blaine as if he didn’t even exist, as if he his presence in the room was inconsequential. It didn’t bother Blaine. He knew Kurt’s game. This was more waiting, more tension, ratcheting up the anticipation. Blaine took this opportunity to be perfect, to sit straighter, and keep his fidgety hands still. He heard Kurt sliding drawers open as he investigated, items shifting and rolling around, chains clinking and rattling. Occasionally, Kurt tossed something that landed on the bed, but Blaine knew better than to look.

Kurt opened another drawer and gasped.

“No he didn’t!” Kurt exclaimed. “Oh, Nick, you little…”

Blaine burned with curiosity at the sound of amusement in Kurt’s voice. He wished he had paid better attention when Nick explained what some of the toys were. Blaine vaguely remembered one thing that Nick jabbered on about, something Kurt was dying to try, but it was too expensive.

_Shit! What was it?_

Kurt’s impish laugh broke through Blaine’s thoughts.

“Well, I think I’m ready for you, sweetheart,” Kurt said finally, strutting back toward the spot where Blaine knelt. Kurt stood in front of him, but Blaine saw only his shiny stiletto boots, the reflection obscured by the dim light. Blaine couldn’t help himself. His eyes flicked up, just the slightest movement, barely perceptible to anyone who wasn’t looking at Blaine as intensely as Kurt was in that moment.

“Ah, I see you noticed,” Kurt purred, slowly kneeling before his sub. Blaine clenched his teeth, breathing through his nose, ready for anything. He waited for the pain to come. He wanted to be punished. Kurt threaded his fingers through Blaine’s hair, curling them into a fist and pulling hard. With a harsh, sudden movement, Kurt shoved Blaine’s face roughly down toward the bulge in his crotch, just an inch or so away from the prize that Blaine wanted. Blaine felt his mouth water as he looked at it, longing so much to run his tongue over it, even with the barrier of black vinyl separating them. He wanted to feel Kurt tremble, but Blaine didn’t try to reach him.

“Is that what you want, princess?” Kurt asked. The slight puffing of Blaine’s breath on his cock made him achingly hard. He rolled his head on his shoulders since he knew Blaine couldn’t see, reeling from the ecstasy of that muted sensation. “Is that what you want to look at? Is that what you want to put your mouth on?”

Kurt could hear Blaine’s breaths come quickly through his nose, the soft snuffling sound made by his sub struggling desperately to obey. Kurt could remember when dominating men was just a job. It tapped into a part of him that he never realized existed. He was good at it, always in such high demand. But it never affected him. He could distance himself physically from acts that others might see as sexual, put himself into the game mentally, and be the dom that his subs needed.

Dominating Blaine was different.  

It was a tremendous turn-on.

“Well,” Kurt continued, struggling to keep the sound of his own lust from clouding his voice, “ _that_ you can’t have unless you learn to play nice.”

Kurt rose to his feet nimbly, pulling Blaine up from the floor by his hair. Kurt pushed him to the bed roughly, bending Blaine over the frame. Blaine let out a breath as the air knocked from his lungs. Kurt didn’t let him recover. He spread Blaine’s legs and stepped between them, coming down hard on Blaine’s ass with the flat of his hand. He knew just how to make the hit sting. He waited a beat, and then spanked him again, trying to ignore the way Blaine’s skin shifted, his cheeks spreading just a bit and exposing his enticing entrance, or how his skin glowed pink with the impression of his handprint.

Blaine wanted to hiss at the sting on his cheeks, but he desperately wanted to moan from the friction surrounding his cock when he shifted up on the bed and rubbed against the new sheets. Without any warning, Kurt shoved a hand under Blaine and wrapped his fingers around his half-hard cock. Kurt tutted, his own erection rubbing along Blaine’s entrance, the slick vinyl teasing his sensitive skin.

“Tsk-tsk,” Kurt whispered. “This will never do. You never could control this, could you, princess?”

Kurt didn’t stand up. He simply reached past Blaine’s bent body to an area of the mattress out of sight. When his hand returned to Blaine’s cock, he slipped something cold, metallic, and extremely lubricated over his member, sliding it swiftly all the way to the base. Kurt fit another metal ring over his ball sack, just above his testicles.

If Blaine had permission to do it, he would have screamed. Kurt never used a metal cock ring on him. Only soft leather ones. Ones that weren’t too restrictive. Ones that gave Blaine room to get hard without leaving him in agony. The ring above his balls was new, but he was pretty sure he knew what it was for.

He knew Nick had bought these. He wanted to find his friend and throttle him.

Kurt took a moment to relish the shuddering sigh that issued from Blaine’s lips, muffled by the sheets.

“Hmmm, well that won’t do, princess,” Kurt murmured, a frown evident in his voice as he considered some more options.

Blaine felt Kurt lean over him again, and a thick piece of fabric forced between his teeth. Kurt tied the gag tight around the back of Blaine’s head, securing it with a double-knot.

“Now that we have that taken care of, I want to introduce you to something new.”

Blaine swallowed hard when Kurt pulled a strange little box attached to an elastic strap up in front of his face so he could see. It looked like an old-school transistor radio. It had a red and green light on the front, an on-and-off switch, and a gauge of some kind. Blaine’s blood went cold and wondered for a moment if the device delivered some sort of electric shock.

_Fuck you, Nick!_

“It’s a Doppler monitor,” Kurt continued, feeling Blaine’s apprehension in the way his entire back went rigid. “With this little gadget, I’ll be able to hear your heart beat.” Blaine shifted on the bed when Kurt slipped the gadget beneath his chest and wrapped the elastic around his back, securing it over his spine with Velcro closures. “People with heart beat fetishes use these. I’ve always wanted to try this.”

Kurt flicked the device on, and after a spattering of feedback, the sound of Blaine’s beating heart filled the room.

“Now, if this was part of our sessions, you would try and control your heart the way you control your body…” Kurt explained, running a finger beneath the elastic strap. He pulled at the strap and let it snap back into place. Blaine didn’t flinch, but the thrumming of his heart sped up a hair before returning back to normal. Kurt grinned. He massaged Blaine’s hips firmly, pulling his ass flush against him, listening to the beating rush again. Kurt didn’t think hearing Blaine’s heart beat race would be a thing for him, but having this proof of his obvious effect on Blaine could become addicting.

Kurt wasn’t satisfied yet. Blaine looked way too comfortable, and for the Doppler to work best he needed to up the ante. He perused the assortment of items he had laid out on the bed. One in particular caught his eye. This time he walked around Blaine and the bed to reach it. He grabbed a pair of leather cuffs and jingled the chains, keeping them just out of Blaine’s line of sight.

“Now, let’s see just how flexible you are,” Kurt said playfully. Kurt pulled Blaine’s arms behind his back and locked his wrists together in the leather cuffs. The cuffs attached to each other by a short length of metal chain, giving Blaine barely any room to pull his arms apart. Two larger cuffs attached to the wrist cuffs by a separate chain. Now that Kurt had Blaine’s wrists locked in the thick cuffs behind his back, he locked his ankles too. He lifted each leg, bending it at the knee, and securing them tight to his wrists. Kurt gently parted Blaine’s knees, then stepped back to take a look. Kurt swallowed hard. Blaine looked breathtaking, locked up tight and spread open, just for him.

Blaine felt exposed, trussed up, unable to stretch his legs or his arms. In the hand of any other lover, this would terrify him. Kurt always pushed Blaine’s boundaries; put him in positions that could be considered humiliating, but with Kurt, it always made him want more.

“Mmmm,” Kurt hummed appreciatively, running a finger down Blaine’s spine, “don’t you look delicious.” When he reached the cuffs he tugged on them hard, making sure that the chains and buckles held. He smiled with the satisfaction that Blaine would be sore. He would feel this in his arms and legs, most likely with marks on his ankles and wrists for the next few days at least.

Blaine, ever obedient, the perfect submissive, didn’t speak, didn’t react, but his heart gave him away. All around them, the sound of it pounding filled the air. Kurt smirked, using all his strength to focus on his task. Meanwhile, his stomach tied itself into knots, like the intoxicating first time he had Blaine under his control. Blaine could say whatever pretty words he wanted. He could act charming and aloof, but his heart didn’t lie. It sang with just how much he wanted this, how much he wanted Kurt.

“God, sweetheart, you have such a beautiful ass.” Kurt landed a slap to Blaine’s left cheek, giddy when he didn’t respond but his heart raced faster. He took both cheeks in his hands and kneaded them. He played rough, squeezing hard, digging his nails into the tanned flesh. “All of the things I can think of to do with this gorgeous ass, and all of these toys to play with. Where would I even begin?”

It wasn’t a question…not for Blaine at least. Blaine’s mouth moved soundlessly with a desire to answer, to scream all the things he wanted, all the ways Kurt could torture him. But he bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt himself sweat, beads of moisture rolling down his back and brow. His discipline was slipping.

Kurt bent low over Blaine’s exposed ass hole, and breathed hot air over the skin.

“Do you want my mouth on you?” he whispered. The tiny tremble in Blaine’s legs was mostly involuntary; a combination of muscle fatigue and exhilaration that he failed to control.

The sound of Blaine’s heartbeat when Kurt’s tongue circled his entrance was hypnotic. It pulsed so loudly from the monitor strapped to his chest that it drowned out every other sound. Kurt caressed Blaine’s balls in his hand, feeling them tighten as he continued to lick slowly. Kurt almost felt sorry for Blaine, knowing with the testicle cuff in place there was no relief for him in sight, no matter how long he spent eating him out.

“What a good boy,” Kurt breathed against Blaine’s puckered entrance. “What a good, obedient boy you are.”

More praise against his sensitive skin along with erratic licks around his entrance made Blaine ready to snap. He had nowhere left in his mind to retreat to. Usually he could lose himself in the quiet of the room, or in focusing on Kurt’s touch, but the sound of his heart beating, strange and erotic all at once, kept pulling his focus away. Even with all this, he felt no need to break free…he wanted to be broken. More than that, he wanted to be ridden until he screamed.

Kurt’s tongue was delightfully cruel, dipping inside his ass, swirling over his balls, sneaking beneath the metal ring at the base of Blaine’s cock and dancing around in between. Blaine bit down on the gag to suppress a moan. He tried to be good. He wanted to be obedient, but this already surpassed every limit they had ever breached. The beating of his heart blurred into a single sound, like a prolonged explosion that had yet to resolve.

Kurt had just about reached his brink. Never had he wanted to pound into Blaine so much. He wanted to take him. He wanted to be animal and dirty, ruthless and demanding. He needed to back away for a moment, or this would be over too quickly. He could see the sheen of sweat coating Blaine’s skin. His accelerated heart beat punctuated the air around them. Blaine might just safe word and then what? It hadn’t happened before, but it conceivably could.

He’d crossed so many lines with Blaine. Forcing himself on a sub after he used the safe word wouldn’t be one of them.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweetheart,” Kurt said, standing up, using this time as an excuse to undress. “I’m going to take you, and you…you’re not going to do anything. Do you understand? Nod your head so I know you understand.”

Blaine couldn’t nod his head quick enough. His wrists, pulled by the pressure of his legs, ached. His ears rang with the sound of his own heart beating. He wanted Kurt inside him, using him. He longed for that moment after they came when Kurt would take care of him, and they could curl up together in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

Another part of him didn’t want this to end.

Given the choice between staying tied up and being spanked or having Kurt fucking his ass, he would pick Kurt any day of the week.

Blaine felt Kurt pushing the blunt head of his hard cock against him, lube dribbling off the tip and over his skin. If he could have, that would have been enough to make Blaine cum. For some reason, the thought of Kurt lubricating his cock to the point of dripping made something in Blaine’s body ignite.

“No moving,” Kurt said in a deceptively calm, sing-song voice. His hands shook like mad as he slowly positioned himself to enter Blaine.

 _Don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t moan…_ Blaine chanted in his head as he felt himself being stretched, his body engulfing Kurt’s length. He could feel the moan rising in his throat. Keeping it at bay was his only choice, or Kurt would pull away, leave him tied up, probably douse his aching cock in ice to cool him down. Maybe he would give up on fucking Blaine completely and masturbate in front on him, stroking his erection inches from Blaine’s mouth, cumming all over his lips without another touch to his cock trapped by that God-awful metal ring.

Blaine kept his forehead pressed to the blanket, trying to block out the image of a naked Kurt cumming on his face.

Kurt slid inside Blaine quickly, burying himself deep, grabbing his hips and pulling him impossibly close, doing anything to evoke a sound out of him, but Blaine chewed on the fabric gag and suffered in silence. Kurt pulled back slowly, and then in a single, fluid motion, rammed into Blaine hard, but still Blaine said nothing. Kurt smirked and began fucking Blaine in earnest, driving into him hard, watching his wrists and ankles strain in the leather cuffs, listening for what he hoped were muffled grunts.

“God,” Kurt moaned loudly as he slammed into Blaine again and again, “it’s kind of nice like this…taking you…owning you…”

Blaine felt tears running down his cheeks as he held back, the restraint becoming too much to bear. He felt his cock throbbing in its ring, begging for a release he knew wouldn’t come until Kurt gave his say so.

“I could do this to you all night if I wanted, sweetheart, and you’d let me,” Kurt said. He tried hard to sound detached, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t help the moans that refused to stop, not with Blaine’s tight heat surrounding him. Listening to Blaine’s heart race egged Kurt on. It made him drive his cock into Blaine deeper, until he knew Blaine was biting back whimpers, probably painfully.

Kurt got a sudden rush of inspiration. At first it seemed too wicked, but the more he thought about, the sweeter it became. Kurt reached over Blaine’s back quickly and untied the gag. Blaine sucked in a deep breath the moment it fell from his mouth.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Kurt said, his voice hoarse and ragged, but at this point he was beyond caring. “I want you to beg for me. I give you permission to beg me.”

He saw Blaine nod, his head of sweaty curls heavy on his neck.

“P-please, Kurt…” the first words out of Blaine's mouth just a stutter of sound, “Please, Kurt…”

“Beg me _not_ to let you cum.”

Kurt heard Blaine’s breath hitch, his tired hands curling into weak fists.

Blaine could have choked. He was so close. So many times Kurt had assaulted that one spot that would have normally turned him into a moaning mess, even with the restrictive metal cock ring fastened to the base of his cock, if not for that God damned cuff on his balls. Every time he tightened, every time they tried to rise up and let him release, the metal cuff stopped them. His cock and his balls were one big throbbing ache. He just prayed Kurt would let him cum, and that finally having an orgasm would solve the problem.

But now, Kurt wanted him to beg him, to plead with him not to cum.

Blaine didn’t know if Kurt was an angel or a sadist. Probably a bit of both, Blaine decided.

Kurt gritted his teeth and waited, slowing down to collect himself.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Kurt purred. Blaine could hear an edge in his dom’s voice. “I want to hear you beg…”

“P-please, Kurt,” Blaine started, swallowing hard to find his voice. “Please, don’t let me cum.”

Blaine felt Kurt’s hands grip his legs tight for leverage.

“Really?” Kurt mocked. “You don’t want to cum?”

Blaine blew out a long breath when Kurt shifted angles and hit him perfectly. He whined deep in his throat.

“N-no, Kurt. I don’t want to cum.”

Blaine tried to sound convincing, but his voice shook, noticeable even over the sound of the Doppler. Kurt snaked a hand beneath Blaine’s body to fondle Blaine’s cock. Blaine bit his lip so hard it bled.

“But, you’re so ready…” Kurt teased. “You’re so close.”

Kurt’s hand disappeared, offering Blaine a brief opportunity to pull himself together before Kurt was slamming into him again.

“Mmmm,” Kurt moaned, “you’re so tight, sweetheart. And you feel so _good_.”

Kurt keened loudly, obscenely, and Blaine felt himself shatter. Blaine didn’t think he had anything left to give. He felt Kurt’s hips shudder, and he lost himself completely.

“Oh, God, Blaine,” Kurt panted, “I’m going to cum…”

Blaine slumped in defeat. All of a sudden his impossibly tight balls and aching cock didn’t seem to matter. The disappointment and the physical pain of not being able to cum should have killed him, but incredibly he became euphoric. Listening to Kurt moan, knowing his dom took pleasure from his body thrilled him, and he did his best to be more at ease.

Kurt held off cumming, biding as long as he could, waiting for a sign.

Blaine’s heart rate slowing down was that sign.

Kurt had no disillusions. He knew what kind of stress Blaine’s body was under. He knew his muscles ached, knew his cock strained to bursting, but there it was in the beating of his heart – trust, acceptance, discipline, and love.

Mostly love.

Kurt fumbled beneath Blaine’s body for the rings, deftly undoing the catches on the cock ring and the cuff, carefully removing them.

“Good boy!” Kurt gasped. “Good boy! Cum for me, sweetheart. Please, cum for me.”

Kurt’s voice became soft, less demanding, but it was the addition of the ‘please’ that made Blaine let go, his cock pulsing almost agonizingly, but the incredible release of pressure so relieving, so satisfying, that he wished it would go on forever. He could feel Kurt shiver against him, feel him buried deep in his body, filling him up. He felt complete.

This was what he wanted. This was what he needed. This was a perfect moment.

Kurt’s orgasm hit him, barreling through his body like a freight train and taking his breath away. He came inside Blaine’s body, pushed so close against him he wasn’t just Kurt anymore. For a moment, Kurt and Blaine became a part of each other. In an instant, the dark and terrifying black swan that Blaine so often craved disappeared. Kurt didn’t want to move. He wanted to lay down with Blaine and fall into a blissful sleep, but knew he wasn’t done. More important than himself was his sub.

He had to take care of Blaine.

Kurt’s hand still trembled with the aftershocks of his orgasm as he reached around Blaine’s body and beneath his chest to turn off the Doppler. The rhythmic ‘thump-thump’ of Blaine’s heart beating vanished, and the room became quiet again.

Blaine’s breath rasped as he shuddered, his fingers flexing in their binds. Kurt rushed to rescue Blaine’s aching arms.

“Okay,” Kurt said, leaning weakly against the bed frame, “this is going to take a bit, so try and relax.”

Blaine couldn’t speak, so he nodded instead, laying his head against the sheets.

Kurt massaged Blaine’s genitals gently, making sure his time spent locked and engorged didn’t cause any damage. Blaine couldn’t imagine getting hard again, but Kurt’s touch felt soothing, his entire body relaxed by the comforting strokes. Kurt undid the buckles on the ankle cuffs one at a time, carefully bending Blaine’s knees back into place and stretching his legs out. He did the same with the wrist cuffs, releasing his arms individually, rubbing each limb to help the blood circulation return, and then stretching it out over the bed. He unstrapped the Doppler monitor from Blaine’s chest and returned it to its drawer.

Blaine could barely get up on his knees. Every time he put weight on his hands to boost himself up, he slid back down to the mattress. Kurt helped Blaine crawl up to the head of the bed. He rearranged the pillows, and rested his head on them.

“Just lay here and relax,” Kurt cooed, brushing back a few stray hairs on Blaine’s forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Kurt had noticed Nick hadn’t just stocked the playroom, but the bathroom as well with all sorts of lotions and creams in exotic looking bottles and dark colored labels. Some of them were pretty straight forward. Some had sinister sounding names. Kurt knew these were all ordered from specialty shops. He rolled his eyes when he looked at some of them, but he had to smile at Nick’s enthusiasm for the craft and all the thought he put into after care.

Kurt peeked out the bathroom door at Blaine, sated, sighing against the pillows, his arms laying out at his sides, and wondered how he got so lucky. He remembered earlier that morning, when he thought for sure their relationship was over. He knew for certain that someone could die from a broken heart.

He would never survive losing Blaine.

Kurt took a moment to clean up, and then started on Blaine. Kurt surrounded Blaine’s body with towels to keep the bed from getting drenched, and with a warm, wet cloth, he wiped down Blaine’s body, carefully negotiating the skin around his cock that was still extremely sensitive. Then, with a sweet-scented almond-based oil he massaged all of Blaine’s sore limbs and aching joints, humming lightly as he worked. Blaine’s face relaxed into a goofy grin while Kurt’s fingers moved over his body. Kurt found another lotion that smelled of peppermint, and used it to massage Blaine’s scalp, threading oil-laden fingers through his curls and tugging gently, then rubbing in circles over his skin.

Kurt smiled as he heard Blaine’s breathing start to even out.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” Kurt asked quietly, not wanting to wake Blaine if he had already gone to sleep.

“I don’t want to,” Blaine grumbled, his eyes still shut. “I don’t want to fall asleep without you.”

Kurt looked at the raw red marks on Blaine’s wrists. He picked out a smaller bottle with a shimmery gold-colored liquid inside.

“Nick bought this scar minimizing potion,” Kurt explained, opening the bottle. “I’m just going to put a little…”

Blaine’s eyes snapped open. He pulled his wrist from Kurt’s grasp.

“No,” he said, sounding vaguely childish.

Kurt laughed at his adorable boyfriend.

“Come on, Blaine,” Kurt said, reaching out for his wrist again. “Your wrists are rubbed raw.”

“They’ll heal on their own,” Blaine said, wrapping his fingers around one wrist protectively.

“But…but what about the meeting?” Kurt said. “With the producers? Everyone will see…”

“Let them see,” Blaine demanded. “Why do I care? I belong to _you_ , right? So let them see. It never bothered me before.”

Kurt nodded, putting the bottle of gold liquid to the side. Kurt stretched out beside him and sighed, looking at Blaine’s serene face. He brushed a stray curl from Blaine’s brow and kissed his forehead.

“I haven’t done anything like that in…geez, ages…” Kurt confessed.

Blaine furrowed his brow.

“I thought you didn’t have sex with clients,” Blaine moped.

“I didn’t before you,” Kurt reassured him. “But, you know, I’ve still tied guys up and gotten them off. There’s other ways to play with subs than fucking them, you know.”

Blaine chuckled at Kurt’s brashness.

“I hope it’s still fun having just me to play with,” Blaine joked, nipping Kurt playfully on the lip. “But I’m still new to all this. Sometimes I feel I must suffer by comparison.”

Kurt’s face changed suddenly, his expression drawn and pale.

“Blaine, it’s different with you.” Kurt kissed Blaine gently. “It’s never been a job with you, Blaine. You paid me, but…but I would have never…you were special…you _are_ special…”

Blaine saw the emotion on Kurt’s face, heard his need to reassure Blaine of how much he meant to him.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s okay.” Blaine wrapped fatigued arms around Kurt and pulled him close. “It was just a bad joke. I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear.”

Kurt nodded, but said nothing.

Blaine folded Kurt completely in his arms.

“Tell me, Kurt,” Blaine pleaded. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine’s curls and smiled to himself.

“I just want this to last forever. I don’t want you to wake up beside me one day and realize just how damaged I really am. I don’t want you to look at me and see all the pieces that are missing and think there’s not enough of me to be worth anything.”

Blaine frowned, looking up at Kurt with wide, hazel eyes.

“I have pieces missing, too, you know,” Blaine confessed. “And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and thought the same thing – that you’ll see how broken I am, and you’ll want to pack up and leave.” Blaine rested his forehead against Kurt’s and shuddered. “If you left me, Kurt, you’d take the rest of me with you. There’d be nothing left.”

Kurt kissed Blaine’s face, pressing his lips to Blaine’s eyes, then the bridge of his nose, over his cheeks, and then meeting up with his mouth, lips trembling as they connected.

“Well,” Kurt whispered, “maybe there’s enough of me and enough of you to make a whole person. Because I’m done being alone, Blaine. There is no me without you. Not anymore.”

 


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N:** _Here I am! Back from the dead! Thank you all for your tremendous patience and sticking to this story. I wanted to get this up ASAP so it's un-beta'd. I apologize. It will be proofed and corrected soon, but for now there shouldn't be too many blaring mistakes. I hope you like this chapter. Here we find out the fate of Sing, and we get some time in the playroom with Kurt and Blaine. I love you all :)_

Kurt trailed long, lithe, manicured fingers down the length of the thick mahogany conference table with a wide-eyed, suggestive look of admiration. He hummed appreciatively as he thoroughly examined it, pressing his weight down on it to test its stability, crouching down to look underneath to see where the legs connected, occasionally bending low to smell the wood with a satisfied smile on his face, all to the amused grins (and a handful of sneers) of the cast and crew of _Sing_ , who had assembled along with their agents and lawyers for the meeting.

Blaine sidled up to his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around his waist, holding tight and resting his head against Kurt's spine.

"This is an _amazing_ table," Kurt exclaimed in a voice that sounded more like a carefully guarded moan. He wrapped his arms over Blaine's, rubbing along his forearms with firm strokes of his talented fingers.

"Are you getting ideas?" Blaine asked, praying silently that Kurt might actually come up with a few.

"Mm-hmm," Kurt affirmed, turning his head slightly to peek over his shoulder at his sub. "I'm imaging a medium gauge rope, about a dozen carabiners…maybe a leather harness…"

Kurt talked conversationally, not at all concerned that an entire room of non-dom/non-sub people were sitting in the room listening, but that was all a part of the fun. This was a session for Kurt and Blaine…but no one needed to know it but them.

"Do you think we can get one?" Kurt asked innocently. "Or even better, do you think if we asked nicely they would sell us this one…" Kurt turned in Blaine's embrace, leaning into his ear and adding quietly, "Because Brad's going to get his ass rammed at this table, and I think I'd like to keep it as a souvenir."

Blaine couldn't help the shit-eating grin that blossomed on his face.

"If you like it that much," Blaine purred, raising his voice just a bit for the benefit of those gathered, "then we'll get one just like it for _every_ room."

Kurt clapped his hands together playfully, and Blaine smiled wider. From directly across the table, a flushed Nick crossed his legs and bit his lip as he watched his friends play. He held on to his boyfriend's hand tightly, shivering with the ideas that flooded his own mind at Kurt's innuendos. Jeff smiled, tracing circles over the back of Nick's hand, knowing that when Kurt talked shop in public around Nick that Nick got all sorts of ideas. That meant Jeff would for sure get lucky later on.

"How are you holding up?" Kurt asked Blaine, becoming serious for a moment, using his hands to smooth down Blaine's sports coat at the shoulders and feeling the slight bulge of the rope hidden underneath.

At home in their playroom, Blaine had tried to put on a brave front, tried not to seem too concerned about the meeting, but try as he might he couldn't hide anything from his dom. After hours of creative coercion on the part of Kurt's dominatrix, Blaine eventually broke down and confessed the overwhelming concerns that weighed heavy on his shoulders. In the past, these meetings always tied Blaine's stomach in knots, but he never really concerned himself with them too much since he normally just sat in the corner, sipping iced coffees and smirking while his agent and his lawyer negotiated the details of his life. Lucky for him, he had some pretty talented people on his payroll. Thad and Wes always had Blaine's best interest at heart, and Blaine relied on that, doing his level best to make sure they never felt taken for granted.

But never before had the fate of so many people's careers hedged on him, and that was exactly what would happen today. Blaine knew exactly why Brad had called this mass meeting instead of meeting with each actor and crew member individually. This was all a big show of Brad putting Blaine in his place; proving that even if Blaine was the star, the face of _Sing_ , he only was because Brad had put him there, and in the end Brad pulled all the strings. Brad didn't have to worry about the rest of the cast. If he could get Blaine to fall in line, everyone else would automatically follow suit…except for maybe Kevin. And on the off-chance that Blaine didn't feel like being a team player and rolling over for Brad and his army of lawyers, then maybe there were enough people on the crew who desperately needed their jobs for the sake of their livelihood that could force Blaine to cooperate.

Blaine had already spoken to a large majority of the cast and crew, and for the most part they sided with him and the other actors who they discovered had been manipulated, humiliated, or otherwise abused by Brad and the studio. In the face of being fired, everyone was willing to stand together.

Faced with the threat of a muti-million dollar lawsuit for breach of contract might change their tune just a bit.

Blaine needed security; he needed something tangible to hold on to. He needed the safety of feeling owned. Otherwise, he didn't know how he'd make it through. Kurt knew he couldn't keep Blaine from failing, but he could make it safe for him if he did. So in preparation for the day, Kurt spent an hour in the playroom with Blaine, breaking him down, tearing him to the core of his being, edging him to the point of insanity, so close to orgasm that just a breath of warm air across his swollen and straining cock would prompt an orgasm, then denying Blaine the one thing he needed.

And Blaine was so good, so obedient, his discipline mounting in the face of physical strain – tied, whipped, and for a brief period, shallowly choked so that Kurt could maintain control. Blaine gave it all to him. He let his cares and his worries bleed into Kurt's body and Kurt devoured it with the strength of his own determined will, because this was how a true dom showed his colors. This is how the black swan loved his sub. Kurt showered Blaine, his sub still hard and wanting, but leaning on Kurt for guidance and strength. Kurt didn't let Blaine lift a finger as he massaged his own vanilla scented shampoo into Blaine's curls and carefully washed his body; working the stress and anxiety from his muscles with firm, deep strokes of his fingers.

Then and only then, when Blaine was clean, scrubbed, and thoroughly exfoliated, Kurt got down on his hands and knees for Blaine and sucked him off slowly, a gentle caress of his mouth over Blaine's aching erection. Kurt hummed around, a light and airy sound of complete contentment that warmed Blaine from his scalp to the soles of his feet, and with a low moan, only a little louder than a sigh, Blaine came with his dom swallowing around him, arms twined around his hips, holding him still.

Kurt dried his sub off and after rubbed him down with an invigorating citrus-scented oil, kneading away any kinks that still remained.

Kurt chose for Blaine a power suit of his own design for him to wear, but before he dressed him Kurt found a sizeable amount of smooth, red cord and tied Blaine up in it, creating a harness that fastened in the back with a series of dragonfly knots running down the length of his spine, wrapping around his shoulders and his hips. Every time Blaine moved, he felt the almost silky rope lubricated by the massage oil, tighten around his chest, under his arms, between his legs, passing between his legs and loosely through the crack of his ass, securing just above the swell of his cheeks. The binding kept him calm, made him feel protected, reminded him that he was strong but that there was at least one person in the world that would be there to catch him if he fell.

Blaine gave Kurt a strained, comical smile, with wide, bulging eyes and full of chattering teeth, and Kurt laughed, holding him close.

"Don't worry, my love," Kurt whispered. "It'll be alright. They can't touch us. They can't touch what we have."

Kurt kissed Blaine's curls, inhaling deep, and letting the comforting scent of his own shampoo fill his senses. Blaine was right. Just as Blaine's signature scent of _Atlas_ smelled different on Kurt's skin, Kurt's favorite shampoo took on a unique flavor in Blaine's hair. Kurt blinked his eyes at the rather harsh sound of someone clearing their throat, and looked over Blaine's head at the mingling crowd. His eyes drifted from person to person, each caught up in their own conversations except for one person, Mia, staring at them, a hint of something close to longing in her distant expression. She looked sad. She looked lost. She looked done in, sitting alone, her own agent occupied elsewhere, and to a small degree, in Kurt's eyes at least, she looked like she missed Blaine. Or maybe she just missed someone holding her and telling her that everything would be okay, like Kurt was doing now with Blaine.

The longer he held her gaze, the more he couldn't help the pity he began to feel for the girl. Blaine so often said that, just like him and Sebastian, she was a victim of circumstance – an innocent and naïve actress making her big break on television, knowing nothing about the perils and pitfalls of the business, barely out of her teens with all sorts of wide-eyed optimism, who eventually became corrupted by the Hollywood machine. Kurt smiled softly, feeling for the first time a sense of camaraderie with this woman that he had, for a brief period of time, felt at odds with. Even though Blaine had a sexual relationship with both her and Sebastian in the past, Kurt felt that Mia was his only real competition for Blaine's affections, but not because Blaine loved her. He admitted he never had those kinds of feelings for her. They were paired together by the studio execs and a relationship with her was easy, convenient. No, Kurt felt that she could provide things physically that he couldn't provide, no matter how captivating he looked in a satin baby doll and silk stockings.

Mia tilted her head in interest at his response, and for a moment Kurt thought she might actually return the smile. What doors would open for them if she did? Could they morph their current relationship of animosity and utter annoyance at the mere sight of each other into something even possibly resembling the shadows of friendship? The sudden snarl that curled Mia's lip gave Kurt his answer. She crossed her arms dramatically over her chest and huffed in exasperation, turning her head to look uninterested in an opposing direction. Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed heavy into Blaine's hair. Blaine peeked up at him, frowning with concern.

"What is it, love?" Blaine asked, his voice a low murmur, blissfully sedate in the arms of his dom.

"Oh, nothing," Kurt reassured him. "Just another dumb human exceeding expectations." When Blaine's frown deepened with an added look of confusion, Kurt smiled, dipping down to peck a kiss to Blaine's nose. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell you later."

The cluster of cast and crew were kept waiting for over forty-five minutes, and some of the less-seasoned actors began to get restless. But Blaine and the regulars took it in stride. Sebastian sat with Chandler in his lap as they talked in whispers and giggled over secrets, and Kurt couldn't help the smile that started as he watched them wrapped together in their own little world. Nick looked over Jeff's shoulder as they streamed episodes of _Brooklyn-Nine-Nine_ on Nick's tablet. Blaine sat with his head leaning against Kurt's shoulder and the earbuds to his iPod stuck in his ears, listening to a combination of classical and modern music for inspiration for the next song on his album.

"It's Brad's thing," Blaine explained nonchalantly when Kurt wondered how Blaine was doing, worried that the stretch of time would ratchet up Blaine's anxiety level. "He likes to be late to try and shake us up, and then he makes a grand appearance. We're all pretty used to it."

Kurt texted Dave to make sure that he and the kids were having fun on their adventure at the Los Angeles Zoo. He smiled at the pictures of the kids that Dave had already texted, and in the background of a couple Kurt thought he could see the same foreign pair of shoes and khaki colored slacks make a, out-of-focus appearance. Kurt smiled. Dave hadn't expressly mentioned that Adam would be joining them. Maybe because he had made the offer to Adam and the man hadn't given him a definite answer. Or maybe because Dave knew Kurt would obsess over it, call it a date even though it was most likely just a casual get together, and then help him pick out his outfit, worrying through his wardrobe well into the night to find an ensemble with the perfect mixture of breezy-just-thrown-together chic with a touch of I'm-totally-into-you sprinkled subtly throughout.

Either way, Dave would tell Kurt in his own time…or Kurt would nag it out of him. Only time would tell which approach would be necessary.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw a chair pull up beside him, and Chandler drop down into it. Kurt turned to see the man sitting primly upright, his knees pressed tight together with his hands sandwiched between them as he rocked from side to side in his excitement. Highlighted sandy colored hair peeked out from beneath a trendy pageboy cap, and pellucid blue eyes shimmered with restrained excitement. The man's pale skin rivaled Kurt's own, though Kurt reassured himself quietly that his was more porcelain in hue than Chandler's slightly sun-kissed complexion. Chandler pressed thin, pink lips tight together, as if keeping a torrent of words from flooding out. Kurt had to admit, the man had impeccable taste and in Sebastian, a generous benefactor.

"May I help you?" Kurt asked, trying to sound warm and welcoming, preparing for a possible verbal sparring match. This was Sebastian's inamorato, after all.

"We haven't been formally introduced," Chandler sang, thrusting a hand into Kurt's personal space. "I'm Chandler Kiehl."

"Kurt," Kurt replied, taking Chandler's hand and shaking it, feeling the man tremble in anticipation of what, Kurt didn't know. "Kurt Hummel."

"I know," Chandler cooed, bouncing in his seat. "Word around the table is that you're the man to see for sexy clothes and kinky sex advice." Chandler was making no effort to keep his voice down, and Kurt could hear a few hushed giggles travel around the table. Kurt turned his head to look at Blaine, who had taken his earbuds out of his ears and watched the interaction with a subdued smile of amusement.

"Uh…you could say that," Kurt said, turning back to Chandler.

"Well…" Chandler leaned in, his eyes shifting left and right, only now seeming concerned about any of the current onlookers listening in, "I was hoping that you might be willing to help me change my look." Chandler folded his hands and twiddled his thumbs, his attention drawn to his own fidgeting digits. "And, maybe with a few other things…" Chandler's cheeks started to pink at the admission, and Kurt took a guess at what Chandler might want to talk about.

"Okay…" Kurt started, stalling long enough to give himself time to come up with an answer.

"That's okay," Chandler said, pulling back and waving his hands, dismissing his request as he started to stand. "If you don't want to…or you're not comfortable because of…" Chandler's eyes darted up over Kurt's head to someone in the crowd, and Kurt caught on immediately.

"No," he said, catching Chandler's hand and pulling him back down into his seat, "you misunderstand. I wasn't going to turn you down."

"You weren't?" Chandler asked, lowering himself back into the chair slowly, a look of disbelief on his face.

"No." Kurt shook his head, trying to sound more convincing. Yes, accepting an offer from Chandler felt a little like aligning with the enemy, but that wasn't Chandler's fault, Kurt realized. It was his own. He had to stop thinking of Sebastian as the bad guy, and Chandler…well, if his eyes were any indicator, Kurt could tell that this man was hopelessly in love. "I just need more time to determine what I want to do with you," and Kurt winked in what he hoped wasn't a too suggestive way. Chandler giggled, turning his head to the side to try and hide the stain of red on his cheeks that got darker and darker.

"You trying to take my man again, princess?" Suddenly Sebastian was there, standing behind his boyfriend, putting comforting hands on Chandler's shoulder's and massaging gently. Kurt scoffed at the comment, but noticed that the remark didn't cut like all of Sebastian's past insults. In fact, Sebastian's usually acerbic tone sounded softer, and his hard green eyes looked tenderly at their single focus – the giggly man staring up at him with unswerving affection.

"I have to say I thought about it," Kurt responded quickly, stifling a laugh as Chandler's eyes snapped back to Kurt's face, growing wide with shock. "But, I have my hands full at the moment."

Sebastian chuckled and shook his head, pecking a kiss onto Chandler's head, breaking the man from his surprised stupor.

"Oh, you're joking with me!" Chandler put a hand over Sebastian's and snorted cutely. "I knew you were just joking. You know, Bas was the one who told me to come see you. He said you're the best."

This time it was Kurt's turn to stop and stare, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian.

"Yeah, well, don't read too much into it, princess." Sebastian leaned down to wrap his arms around Chandler protectively. "I just think my man here would look good in vinyl, and I'd rather not send him to one of those seedy stores downtown."

"Ah, high praise indeed," Kurt teased. "Well, why don't you give me a call when this hoopla dies down and we'll get you to my studio for a fitting." Kurt reached out his hand, and Chandler handed over his phone, watching with an expression of absolute glee as Kurt inputted his phone number.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!" Chandler chanted, taking his phone back and looking at the number on the screen.

"Come on, babe," Sebastian urged as he helped his star-struck boyfriend from his seat. Chandler smiled so wide that Kurt was sure something on his face would break…or maybe had already broken since he couldn't stop smiling. "Make sure you take good care of my man, Hummel," he said, throwing Kurt a wink and patting Blaine on the back as he walked Chandler back to their seat…the singular seat that they shared with no shame.

Kurt turned in his seat to watch them, and then looked down at a quietly laughing Blaine.

"What just happened?" Kurt asked. Blaine shook his head in response.

"I think that might have been Sebastian's way of apologizing?" Blaine speculated.

"Well, he'd better watch out, or I'll turn his adorable little boyfriend into another Nick."

Blaine put an arm around Kurt's shoulders and squeezed.

"I'm not sure you have far to go with that one," Blaine said. "You forget, I saw them fucking when you left Sebastian tied to that bed. I'm pretty sure Chandler's into the whole bondage thing."

Kurt chuckled, trying to picture Chandler as a dom, dressed in leather, with Sebastian in a collar and a leash.

"Could happen," he commented. "Stranger things have."

The heavy double doors flew open and Brad strode in, dressed in all black like the villain from a cheesy, old school, spaghetti Western. All he needed was a handlebar moustache and a ten gallon hat, and the façade would be fini. Instead of a hat, he wore Ray-Ban sunglasses to instill a sense of fear and intimidation, Kurt assumed. He kept the top two button of his tailored dress shirt unbutton in typical Hollywood exec fashion. Several other men in black sunglasses and suits flanked him, taking seats near him or standing in pre-planned spots behind him. Brad pulled off his sunglasses and appraised the room with a no-nonsense, smug expression. Everyone fell silent and watched the performance with mixed expressions ranging from aggravation to unease.

Brad waited, letting anticipation grow in the silence as the actors and crew waited for whatever Brad had to say. Kevin, who had been appointed spokesman, stood at his seat and cleared his throat.

"Brad," he started, and Kurt was impressed at how confident he sounded with all eyes on him and so much riding on the line, "you called this meeting, and as a show of good faith, we're all gathered here to hear what you have to say."

"Mr. Lee," Brad said coolly in response.

"What?" Kevin said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"You will refer to me as Mr. Lee, or these negotiations are over."

Kevin rolled his eyes so that Kurt could almost hear them moving in their sockets.

"Ok, _Mr._ Lee," Kevin groaned. "You wanted to talk, so talk. I know a lot of us have better things to do."

"Yeah, maybe," Brad said. "But a lot of you don't." His cold eyes sought out and landed on a few members of the crew that Kurt didn't recognize, who shuffled nervously in their seats at being targeted.

"Look," Kevin intervened. Kurt heard the tone of his voice shift, as if Kevin was fighting hard not give in to frustration. "We've come up with an agreement we think will be fair to everyone involved."

"Ah…" Brad sat back in his chair, reclining comfortably, staring down the line of people seated at the table, passing quickly past make-up artists and costume artists, most of the background crew really, and lingering for heated moments on the stars themselves. But his icy glare, the one that shot shard, daggers, and a myriad of other sharp and deadly objects, he reserved for Kurt. Kurt who stole his lead star, who flaunted his deviance and destroyed his show. For a moment, Brad considered giving the group anything they wanted as long as he got Kurt's head on a silver platter in return.

But Brad realized that in this day and age, such compromises were impractical…and most likely illegal. He didn't know for sure. He didn't quite sit on the right sight of legal all the time himself.

Kurt matched Brad's stare, his steel grey eyes glaring back at with an equal dose of ice and venom, unwilling to relinquish control.

"So, what do you think?" Kevin said.

"What?" Brad asked, turning back toward Kevin, livid at letting Kurt win their staring match by default. He saw the tense faces of the people around him and realized that Kevin had just outlined their entire plan while he was busy plotting his revenge. "I didn't hear a word of what you just said. Sorry, not sorry."

A low murmur grew up around them, and Kevin pinched his nose, taking a deep breath.

"Our proposal, if you look in front of you…" Kevin gestured to a folder sitting on the table in front of Brad, but Brad refused to acknowledge it, "states that we agree to five final episodes in order to tie up loose ends in the storyline so we can give the fans of the show closure."

Brad nodded, looking intent and even interested. Kurt wasn't fooled. He didn't think anyone else in the room was either.

"Everyone will be compensated fully up through the end of the season. Also, any crew members whose affiliation is not solely to the show _Sing_ who intend to stay with the studio will not be blackballed, as this agreement was mainly reached by the leads. They shouldn't be penalized for something they had no control over."

A meaningless nod.

"And we ax the tour," Kevin threw in.

Another meaningless nod.

Kevin threw his hands up in frustration.

"If you're not listening to us, then why are we here?" Kevin grumbled.

"Oh, I'm listening," Brad said, waving to the men seated beside him. They opened their briefcases and pulled out a stack of papers, rising from their seats and handing them out. "But you see, the studio has a counteroffer that I think we should discuss."

Kurt watched Kevin take the handout and look at it, his brow crinkling further. He leaned over to peek at the handout of the person beside him, and then at the person to the opposite side. Kurt looked over Blaine's shoulder at the pages he was flipping through. All Kurt could make out was a bunch of complicated legalese, and at the bottom of a few pages, Blaine's signature.

"I don't understand," Blaine said. Brad turned to face him, seeming all too pleased that Blaine seemed finally involved. "This is my contract."

"And this is mine," Sebastian affirmed, holding his papers out for everyone to see.

"And mine," Kevin chimed in.

"That's right." Brad nodded. "Each one of you has a contract with the studio. A contract that is legal and binding. A contract you all agreed to."

"We know," Kevin said slowly. "We're breaking them."

"That's easy for you to say." Brad stood, starting a circuit around the room. "But not everyone in this room is a millionaire like you. Some people here need their jobs. You guys have been together for a while. You're all a family. You know better than I do that some people sitting at this table will be on the verge of financial ruin if this show goes under."

"We _are_ a family. We'll find a way," another crew person, (Marcus, Kurt thought his name was) offered.

"What are you going to do?" Brad asked, continuing his way around the table. "Are you going to support all these people on your salary? Hell, I don't think Blaine could support everyone here on his salary. The truth of the matter is we have you …all of you, for breach of contract. We could sue you all, renegotiate your contracts, pay you all less, and _still_ get you back on the show."

Kurt turned to Blaine. Thad stood stooped behind Blaine's chair, whispering in his ear that Kurt couldn't make out. Blaine nodded.

"Over my dead and decaying body," Kevin groused with a look of pure hatred in his eyes.

"What do you want, Brad?" Blaine spoke up, securing Brad's undivided attention. Kurt could hear in the inflection of his voice that Blaine had reached his limit. Years of this same power play, of being told what he was going to do without any regard for his wants or his dreams. Blaine was tired of bending to someone else's agenda, and he was done dealing with Brad's enormous ego.

"I just want what's fair for everyone," Brad said, arms open wide to include all the people gathered, even though his gaze burned solely at Blaine. "I want you to finish out your contract. End this season. Do the tour. Be seen in public with Sebastian or Mia, whoever you want, or both, your choice, and promote our image." Brad made his way back to the end of the table where he started, turning on Blaine and leaning over the table with barely an inch between them. "Stop being selfish, Blaine. Put your…" Brad turned his head to glance at Kurt and then back to Blaine, "…whatever…on the back burner for a while, and think of the greater good."

Kurt looked at Blaine, trying to decipher Blaine's reaction, but Blaine's eyes drifted down to his lap and stayed glue to his hands as he composed himself, thinking things over in his head, finding the words to say what needed to be said. This wasn't his life. It was just a show. Kurt, the man sitting next to him, loving him, supporting him, that was his life. The kids and Dave – they were his life. A future in music…hopefully that was in the cards somewhere, too. But this? This disaster? This toxic train wreck? This was nothing. A stepping stone. He would toss it away and forage ahead for something new. And all those people who would be adversely affected by his decision…well, like Marcus said, they were a family. They'd find a way.

Blaine lifted his eyes to look at his dom, taking strength from the enormity of love in his eyes. Kurt smiled.

"You can do this," Kurt whispered. "Just…say what you need to say."

Blaine nodded, standing, stopping to press a kiss to Kurt's forehead. Blaine's eyes swept over the room, trying in his own quiet way to give everyone looking to him a small measure of hope.

"I love this show," Blaine started, shuffling from foot to foot uncomfortably, "and when we started, I honestly saw myself doing this forever. I had other dreams that I wanted to pursue, but I was pretty sure any road I took would eventually lead me back here, to _Sing_. But somewhere along the way, this show became perverted. It wasn't uplifting or entertaining, the storylines made no sense, and the more we got pulled into this, the more we changed. Our lives changed. There came a point that I didn't even recognize myself anymore…"

"Get to the point…" Brad groused loudly, flopping down theatrically back into his chair.

Blaine swallowed hard and Kurt took his hand, holding it firmly, not prepared to let go without Blaine's say so. Blaine looked at Kurt's hand in his, pale and perfect, strong and secure. Blaine fixed Brad with determined eyes; a look so powerfully self-assured that it wiped the smirk off of Brad's face.

"You know, my entire career I relied on other people to steer me in the right direction, and I put my trust in too many of the wrong people, you included. You keep asking me if I've read my contract, and you've got me there." Blaine shrugged his shoulders. "I'm kind of a fuck up. I think I read it once in the bathroom, but I didn't set portions of it to memory like you obviously have. But luckily, I didn't have to."

Blaine didn't have to turn to know that Thad was walking to the table, handing Brad a copy of his contract.

"What's this?" Brad asked.

"It's a copy of my contract that I brought for you," Blaine said, "only mine has a few choice passages highlighted. Passages that you seemed to have glossed over when you were setting it to memory."

Kurt was intrigued. Blaine never mentioned this. He couldn't imagine what might be hiding between the lines of Blaine's contract that would fill Blaine with so much confidence. The way Brad made it sound, the actors had basically signed over their souls when they joined the show.

"What is this?" Brad mumbled, turning the page with the large section of print marked over in yellow to one of the black suited lackeys standing behind him.

"That," Wes intervened, stepping forward and putting an arm on the shoulder of his friend, "is a morals clause. In laymen's terms it states that if Blaine or the studio does something that can be deemed morally reprehensible by either party, then the contract is completely null and void."

Brad stared at the page, his jaw tight, a vein in his neck throbbing grotesquely.

"My client has been the victim of entrapment, blackmail, and invasion of privacy for starters."

"You can't prove any of that," Brad growled, though he didn't sound too sure.

"Actually, we can." Wes turned to Thad who handed him another folder. Wes didn't even look at the contents. He dropped it in front of Brad, who startled when the heavy folder hit the table with a thunk. "We have signed affidavits, statements, surveillance footage. The long and short of it is that we have enough here to have you charged for several different classes of felonies."

Brad opened the folder in front of him with trembling fingers, though whether or not he was shaking out of anger or fear, or maybe a little bit of both, was a card he played close to his chest.

"On top of that," Wes continued into the silence, "is the suit my other client, Mr. Hummel, will be filing for invasion of privacy and defamation of character."

At the mention of Kurt's name, Brad's eyes rose to find his face, smiling innocently, taunting the desperate man with a tiny wave.

"So, you have a choice," Blaine said, picking up the conversation again. "You can agree to our terms and use the last five episodes of _Sing_ to redeem yourself and the show, or Kurt and I sue you up and down for everything you've got. The show will be bust, you'll lose all your credibility, this whole career you've built will be gone."

Blaine waited patiently for an answer, watching as Brad seethed in his seat, papers crumpling in his fists.

"For God sakes, Brad!" Blaine sighed in exasperation. "Is getting back at me really worth all of this? Just let it go, man."

Brad couldn't decide who he hated more in that moment – Kurt for destroying Blaine, or Blaine for destroying the show? When had everything spiraled so completely out of his control? When did his puppets suddenly develop minds of their own and conspire against him? He was going to lose everything. He was producing four failing shows before _Sing_ came along, and try as he might he hadn't been able to make lightning strike twice, not in all that time. Another show like _Sing_ would never come together for him, not in a million years.

Brad slammed his fists down on the table, pushing himself to his feet. He turned, shoving past his pack of black suits and heading for the door, the man Kurt identified as his lawyer (or possibly his head lawyer) trailing behind him like a puppy mewling for attention. Everyone at the table and lined around the room stared in stunned silence at the cracked door, all holding a combined breath as they listened to Brad roar and curse outside the double doors. Sebastian broke the silence with his signature sarcastic laugh.

"Shit, Blaine," he said, "I've got to hand it to you. You don't do anything by halves, do you? When you fuck someone over, you really fuck someone over."

It was a stereotypical Sebastian Smythe compliment, meant to sound more like a jab but with just enough infused affection that anyone who knew the real Sebastian would automatically know the difference, but Kurt couldn't help detect a thread of something else. Sebastian still had some issues to resolve, that was for sure, but Kurt didn't know exactly with whom.

"Just wait," Blaine said with a wink at his former lover, "we're not done just yet, are we?" Sebastian smiled evilly, sparing a glance at Kurt before turning his attention back to his boyfriend still perched in his lap. Kurt's interest was once again piqued, not realizing there was more to this elaborate plan. Blaine had hinted at so much without telling Kurt anything, and now he found himself on the edge of his seat, waiting sadistically for Brad to return.

The commotion in the hallway died down and the doors opened again, just enough for Brad to peek his head through. Addressing the crowd but speaking only to Blaine again, he ground out through clenched teeth, "You have your five episodes. I hope you're satisfied."

"Not yet," Blaine said when Brad turned to leave. There is just one more tiny detail. We heard a reliable rumor there's been a bidding war to see which designer is going to outfit me and Kevin and the rest of the cast for the big wedding scene."

"Yeah," Brad replied slowly, looking about to commit murder but his voice betraying his fear that he knew where this conversation might be heading. "The studio's narrowed it down to three designers so far…"

"Well, you're giving it to Kurt," Kevin interrupted.

Kurt turned his head so quickly that he felt a muscle in his neck kink painfully.

"What?" both men exclaimed in chorus. Kurt's wide eyes turned to Blaine who glowed at his boyfriend with pride, but the black aura surrounding Brad's body was nearly tangible. He held onto the edge of the door with a grip that made the thick wood shake. Kurt thought for a second that he might actually rip the thing from its frame.

"Fine," Brad hissed. "You now have my permission to go fuck yourself."

Blaine smirked, and barely waiting a breath replied, "Like I need your permission for that."

Brad stormed back through the door, his voice echoing as he stomped down the hallway, barking orders and cursing out demands. A roar went up around the room, and people actually cheered, leaving Kurt to wonder just how bad everyone had it on set if defeating Brad made everyone this relieved. Maybe now that Blaine was over this and could see things critically, he could explain it to Kurt. But for now he needed to get home and get started on those designs, and he would definitely need Blaine's help.

The euphoria in the room was loud and infectious, and Kurt through himself into his boyfriend's arms. People passed them by, clapping both men on the back and offering their congratulations, but Kurt didn't hear them, and he suspected neither did Blaine.

"I am so proud of you, baby," Kurt gushed, holding Blaine close. "You did it. You finally did it. You're free!"

"Well, five episodes and then free," Blaine corrected. "So, do you like your surprise?"

"What the fuck, Blaine?" Kurt crowed. "How did you guys come up with that?"

"We all pretty much figured that Brad owed you, too," Blaine admitted with a small shrug. "But do you like it?"

"You have no idea," Kurt purred, running his hands down Blaine's arms. "So, what happens now?"

"I think the guys were talking about grabbing lunch someplace nearby?" Blaine looked over his shoulder, trying to make eye-contact with Kevin to make sure, but Kurt cupped his jaw and pulled Blaine's attention back to his eyes.

"We need to go…now." Kurt spoke slowly, putting undeniable emphasis into his words.

"Go?" Blaine asked, stumbling a bit when Kurt untangled from his embrace and started dragging him away by the arm, pushing past the throng of people who crowded around them. "Go where?"

Kurt turned to whisper to his sub. No one else needed to hear his plans.

"We need to get back to our playroom. If I'm going to make all those tuxes and dresses, I had better start sketching and planning yesterday, and I need you for…uh…inspiration."

Blaine bit his lip and let himself be dragged along. He didn't know exactly how Kurt would use him for inspiration, but he couldn't wait to find out.

They made it out of the studio and to Blaine's car in record time. Kurt dragged Blaine the entire way while Blaine texted Thad, Wes, Kevin, and anyone else he could think of, one-handed, to apologize for their abrupt retreat. Most of the words came out misspelled, and some of them bled together, but Blaine was pretty sure that everyone would get the gist.

Things like traffic lights and stop signs were just a hindrance to Blaine, and he disregarded as many as he could conceivably get away with. He was a man on a mission. Kurt, his dom, needed him; for inspiration, of all things. For an operation of this importance, Blaine would risk a few minor traffic infractions, only slowing down and stopping when lives were at stake.

The playroom, with its deep purple walls and overwhelming dark and slightly sinister air waited for them, cool and inviting, enveloping them the moment they entered it with its sensuous mystique. Kurt didn't need to tell Blaine how he wanted him, didn't need to let Blaine get ready since he had been in his sub mindset all day. Kurt took no time stripping Blaine down till he was naked, with just the ropes tied around his body. While Kurt worked on disrobing his sub, his mind whirled around thoughts of a wedding – a breathtaking, aubergine and gold themed wedding (he assumed since those were the favorite colors of the characters on the show). But that was a minor detail, easily adjusted if they took it in a different direction.

Tuxes. In the last close to ten years Kurt hadn't designed a tux since Finn and Rachel's wedding. God, it seemed like ages ago. He turned this corner in his life, with Blaine and the big move to L.A. and here he was designing two sets of tuxes.

Kurt wondered if designing another pair of tuxes would be in his future anytime soon.

Kurt pushed those thoughts to the side, filling his head with dimensions and deciding over fabric choices, cut, color, and drape as he removed each article of Blaine's clothing, laying each piece carefully over the back of a nearby chair. He trussed Blaine up quickly, using another length of rope and the exact same dragonfly knots to tie up his arms and legs so that his knees and elbows couldn't bend. He needed Blaine to last, but as a reward for his wonderful performance at the meeting, Kurt decided to forgo the testicle cuff in favor of simply tying a knot above his ball sac with the line that threaded up between his cheeks. Ankles and wrists were tied to the bed, putting Blaine in what Kurt could easily call his favorite iron cross position. It made Blaine so accessible and showed off all his assets – his gorgeously sculpted thighs, his enviable biceps, his perfect ass, his flat stomach... He loved having this, Blaine on display just for his enjoyment. He mourned the fact that he would probably never meet the Andersons and be able to thank them for the masterpiece they created – this spectacular temple of a human being, with the stunning heart and soul to match.

Kurt laid his sketchpad and charcoal pencils on the bed in front of Blaine, preparing his work space to insure optimal comfort and few distractions. Kurt stripped down to his boxer briefs, not worrying about his armor for now since his task was strictly goal oriented.

He didn't necessarily need Blaine to obey. He just needed him there.

Kurt affixed a thick leather collar around Blaine's neck, one that restricted him from tilting his head down, to keep him from peeking at the works of art Kurt intended to create, adding a blindfold as a little extra insurance, and a comfortable ball gag so that any errant noise Blaine might make wouldn't derail Kurt's concentration. Kurt lay out on the bed with his sketchpad within reach. He breathed in deep through his nose and out again through his mouth; a deep, cleansing breath to clear his mind and slow the frantic beat of his heart, still thrumming with adrenaline; an aftereffect of Blaine's tremendous news. Kurt took Blaine in his mouth, allowing Blaine freedom to moan without fear of punishment. Kurt sucked on his sub slowly while he let his mind wander, and in this way Kurt used Blaine's body as a means of meditation and a way to relax, to unhinge his mind and allow his creativity to flow through. Kurt often thought his artistic brain was at its peak when he could tap into his center of total control, and domination always put him in the correct state of mind.

On and on through the long afternoon Kurt sucked, alternating pressure between hard and gentle, caressing with his tongue, and humming light, airy tunes, edging Blaine along, constructing patterns in his head to the symphony of muffled whimpers and whines above him. As soon as he knew Blaine was close to cumming, Kurt would stop and sketch, giving his sub enough time to cool off before beginning again.

Kurt stopped sketching when he had ten designs done, ten opuses that he could safely commit to calling the best work he had ever done. Blaine had reached a point where his body wouldn't stop shaking, and Kurt refused to torture the poor man anymore. Kurt stood from the bed and pulled off his briefs. He approached his blindfolded sub, slathering his own patiently waiting cock with generous amounts of lube since he intended on this being hard and fast, which meant very little prep. He didn't speak a word to Blaine, letting the sound of his feverish breathing and the heat of his body communicate all that he needed to say. Kurt removed the collar from around Blaine's neck and slipped the knotted rope from his testicles, and that's when Blaine knew what his dom had in store for him.

Kisses to the nape of Blaine's neck accompanied Kurt's ever so slow breach of his body, and the moment the head of Kurt's cock passed the tight ring of muscle that relaxed around it, Blaine gave such an unrivaled sigh of relief that Kurt had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing, which he realized might end up being a huge blow to Blaine's self-esteem. Kurt slid slowly in, enjoying the squeeze of his sub's body around him, the lack of resistance at his intrusion. Kurt hummed his approval at the pliant body and its intense heat that consumed his cock inch by inch.

"Mmm, you're so hot for me, Blaine. So tight for me, too. Do you like that I use you like this?"

Blaine didn't speak around the ball gag in his mouth. He didn't have permission and very little strength besides. Every last bit of energy seemed to race straight along with all his blood straight to his cock, which was rock hard and throbbing from hours of attention and conflicting signals, but now begged for release.

"Don't worry, my love," Kurt said in response to Blaine's silence. "You were such a good boy for me. I'll give you what you need."

Kurt peppered Blaine's shoulders with bruises – some gentle nibbles, and some so deep that they went purple in seconds. Blaine squirmed in his confines as Kurt assaulted his sweet spot again and again, murmuring words of love and praise into his skin.

"That's my good boy," Kurt whispered, not hiding the whimper from his voice, not afraid of looking weak if he lost control, "I'll give you what you want. I'll give you what you need. I'll fill you to bursting. I'll make you cum. So gorgeous…so obedient…so mine…"

Kurt's long fingers, stained with charcoal, barely brushed Blaine's cock and he went limp like a ragdoll, body quivering and shaking as he came, spilling over Kurt's skin, making it white again, falling over the comforter on the bed in thick ropes. Kurt was amazed that Blaine had been so ready for so long, and yet he still gave Kurt more, so much more of himself than Kurt even thought possible.

"Beautiful," Kurt moaned in awe. "Just hold on a little longer for me, baby…just a little…longer…"

Kurt held Blaine's body against him, still pounding into him after Blaine's muscles had long given up the fight to hold him upright, but the fall of his limbs around him, the way Blaine's body covered his like a blanket, the tremendous trust of this sub for his dom, made cumming effortless, easy, like taking a breath or blinking an eye. They were joined together, so intimate, so connected.

One. Complete. Whole.

Kurt thought he'd never stop his hips stuttering, never stop cumming inside Blaine, and Blaine rode it out with him.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered, holding Blaine up in the ropes, worrying the knots one by one and cursing himself for being so Goddamned thorough. "Blaine, aside from being in love I think this room is the best gift you've ever given me."

Kurt reached a hand around Blaine's body and pulled the ball gag from his mouth, grateful for the deep breath Blaine sucked in immediately, aware as Kurt was on Blaine's propensity for passing out.

"Th-that…that can't possibly be true," Blaine sputtered, trying his best to will his legs to stand and groaning in despair when they simply would not cooperate. Kurt gave up on the knots for a moment to catch his breath, still supporting most of Blaine's weight in his arms. He thought about all the things Blaine had given him – the house, a job, his life, a career, a brand new start in a world he was sure gave up on him and his family a long time ago. But the best gift he had, the greatest thing that had been given to him, was the man cradled in his arms.

Kurt took another deep breath, this one full of serenity and peace, as he ran his chin over Blaine's curls.

"You're right," Kurt said. "It's not. But for the moment, it's definitely in the top five."


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry sorry sorry! What else can I say!? Chapter rated M for the same old stuff - you should know it all by now ;)

" _More_ sequins?" Kurt emphasized, making sure he heard the excited drag queen correctly.

"Of course, darling," Ms. Unique confirmed. "Is there such a thing as too many sequins? And feathers. Lots of feathers. The big flouncy ones that bounce when I walk. Oh, you know what Ms. Unique likes."

"Got it," Kurt said, jotting down the information with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. He learned pretty early on that it did no good to argue with Unique. She was a shrewd business woman who knew exactly what she wanted, didn't take no for an answer, and always managed to get the upper hand.

Kurt had to admit that when he met her, he loved her immediately, and to his surprise they clicked on a level that had little to do with business. If Ms. Unique wasn't so successful with her night club and her drag burlesque revue, Kurt might suggest that she look into becoming a Dominatrix.

"So, let me go over that again to be sure I have it right," Kurt said, squinting at his own notes and crude sketches, trying to get his thoughts in order, "that's the mermaid style off the shoulder gown in candy apple red heavy double-faced silk charmeuse with off-set rickrack sequins in red, pink, and white, and the feather boa trim in blood orange? Does that sound correct?"

"That's perfect!" Ms. Unique chirped over the phone, sounding so utterly elated that Kurt bit his lip not to laugh. "And that'll be ready by the Winter Showcase, darling?"

"Of course," Kurt assured her. "Not a problem."

He mentally patted himself on the back for sounding so confident. A big part of Kurt's job relied on his clients having faith in his abilities to deliver on time, but with every order that came in he became less and less sure of himself – a bad trait for a designer and a Dominatrix.

He rubbed his neck with his fingers, trying to work through the knots that seemed to have sprung up one on top of the other over the course of the last few hours.

Kurt severely needed to relieve some stress. Blaine and the rest of the _'Sing'_ crew had been burning some serious midnight oil in an attempt to polish off those first four episodes before they dove into filming the wedding, which was touted as the pinnacle of the season if not of the whole entire series so extra care was being taken to make sure it turned out just right. That meant an exhausted Blaine stumbling into bed at all hours of the morning, definitely too tired to be dominated, often times too tired to be fucked. Kurt was sympathetic, especially considering his own hectic schedule, but he was also nearing his wit's end.

Another late night and a dead-tired sub meant Kurt might have to resort to desperate measures; knock the dust off his woebegone Fleshjack, and take matters into his own hands.

Kurt cringed at the thought. He was all for self-gratification but with Blaine around it seemed like a sin to pleasure himself when there was such a glorious ass at his disposal.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Kurtie," Ms. Unique cooed. "I just love _love_ LOVED the last mermaid dress you made! And how you managed to find a shade of peach that complimented Unique's skin color so perfectly the way you did…you are simply a miracle worker! That's what you are! Move over Miss Anne Sullivan because you are straight from heaven!"

This time Kurt let a small chuckle slip past his lips. He couldn't help it. Ms. Unique's enthusiasm was like a cold – once you were exposed to it there was no escaping it. It wormed its way inside your body until you were completely infected, and then it was too late. You could try your hardest to be sour and bitter (or frustrated beyond belief, as in Kurt's case) but there was no defeating it.

From behind Kurt another sound joined Ms. Unique's unerringly cheerful voice. Kurt's body felt it before his mind registered it, every muscle straining tight beneath his skin relaxed, and he immediately felt light and giddy.

Blaine had stepped through Kurt's studio door.

"Well, as long as you're happy, I'm happy," Kurt said, trying to find the quickest and politest way to end their conversation.

There must have been some change in the tone of Kurt's voice, something that hinted to his shift in mood because Ms. Unique hummed over the line and the sound made Kurt blush feverishly.

"Ooo, I know that voice," she said with a suggestive lilt. "I'm guessing your man just got home."

Kurt couldn't answer. Blaine had put his hands on Kurt's shoulders and kissed his neck. What Kurt had intended to be a yes came out as a choked, embarrassingly obscene moan. Ms. Unique laughed out loud.

"Go get some, baby boy," she said. "I'll talk to you later. TTFN," and without Kurt even needing to say goodbye, Ms. Unique hung up.

"Hello, gorgeous," Blaine muttered from where he sucked a mark behind Kurt's right ear. Kurt had no other response than to surrender, to lean back into it and soak up all of his sub's affection. Blaine peeked over Kurt's shoulder and caught a glimpse of his notes scrawled on the notebook locked in his fist.

"Another one?" Blaine murmured, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he looked over the haphazard notes. "Won't that be the third one?"

"Yup," Kurt said, capping his pen, "but this one is for Unique's own personal use. And it must be big, big, big!" Kurt said, imitating the voice and signature jazz hands of the busty torch song singer. "Something between Oprah Winfrey chic and Barbette fabulous."

"Barbette fabulous?" Blaine parroted, shaking his head. "What's that?"

Kurt opened up the most recent search on the browser window of his phone and passed it over to Blaine.

"Yeah. I'm ashamed to say that I had to Google it." Kurt folded his arms on the counter and dropped his head onto them, groaning loudly. Blaine looked up from the phone and over at his Dom, tense shoulders hunched up around his ears while he continued to grumble.

"Kurt?" Blaine put the phone down on the counter and rested a hand on Kurt's back, rubbing circles over his spine. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," he replied, not raising his head. "Just…maybe a little overwhelmed. That's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blaine trailed his hands up Kurt's back to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension melt slowly beneath his fingers.

Kurt sighed. He hedged against telling Blaine how many responsibilities he had piled on his plate. He didn't want his sub, his love to feel guilty, especially when everything he did had Kurt's best interests at heart – a want for him to overcome, to succeed. In the end he decided to lay it all out. Blaine wasn't only his sub, but his partner, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving. He didn't want to devastate the trust they had been building with lies of any kind.

"My schedule is so full, it's overflowing!" Kurt exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and blowing a long breath through pursed lips. "I had my hands full with Lucy Bale's twenty leather _hand-dyed_ costumes for her tour, and now Ms. Unique added a second show to her winter lineup, and on top of that, _and on top of that_ , _Sing_ 's whole wedding party." Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head, squeezing tight when he remembered one last little detail. "Oh, and did I forget to mention that I have my clients at Celebrity Fitness!? Don't get me wrong, some of them are really cool about my over-the-top schedule, especially knowing that _Sing_ is coming to a close, but some of them…ugh! Uptight little…"

Kurt rubbed his eyes hard with the heel of his hand to clear his mind. Blaine's hands dropped from Kurt's shoulders, his entire body weighed down with the burden of Kurt's obvious distress.

"Look…Kurt…" Blaine stuttered, sitting on the stool opposite his Dom and staring down at his kidskin leather shoes, "I didn't think about any of this when we decided to put this in your lap."

Kurt hopped off his stool and walked over to Blaine as he spoke, resting his hands on Blaine's knees. Blaine looked up at him with large, honey-colored eyes, full of sorrow and regret.

"I'm so sor-"

Kurt surged forward and cut Blaine off with a gentle but urgent kiss, nibbling on his upper lip before he pulled away with a look of amusement at the way Blaine's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm so sor-"

Kurt kissed him again, this time wrapping his arms around his sub's waist, threading one hand through Blaine's hair. Blaine whined low in the back of his throat when Kurt tightened the hand in his hair.

Kurt pulled away again, this time chuckling. Blaine smiled.

"I'm so-"

Blaine laughed when Kurt kissed him one more time, receiving a sharp tug to his curls that cut his laugh short and turned it into a moan. Kurt tightened his arm around Blaine's waist, keeping him still and claiming him with the ferocity of that kiss.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Blaine asked, chasing Kurt's lips with his own as his Dom leaned back to peer down at him.

"Because you keep trying to apologize," Kurt explained. "And I don't want you to. I don't want you to be sorry for anything. What you did for me…it's amazing. A little exhausting, but amazing, and I wouldn't change a thing. Not a single…fucking…crazy…thing…" Kurt punctuated his statement with bites to Blaine's neck, smiling when Blaine jumped, his sub rubbing his crotch subconsciously along Kurt's thigh as the nips got harder. Kurt whimpered. Blaine was incredibly hard, but he didn't have enough time to dominate Blaine properly with another new gown in his queue, so a full session would be out of the question.

But maybe Blaine could help him with another dose of inspiration.

* * *

Kurt adored his luxurious playroom with its gigantic bed and all its various exotic devices of discipline, but there was something comforting and maybe a touch deliciously taboo about taking his sub in the back room of his studio. It reminded him a little of his days working at _Vogue_ when he would daydream about doing something forbidden and lurid in that back corner closet they stuck a desk in and called his office…long before the days when he became a Dom and learned what forbidden and lurid really meant.

Kurt fastened the studded leather cuffs around Blaine's wrists and ankles looser than normal, choosing ones that were padded on the inside for comfort. A knotted piece of spare silk cord doubled as a testicle cuff.

Kurt Hummel was nothing if not resourceful.

As he had in the playroom after that fated meeting with _Sing_ execs, Kurt tied Blaine up and sucked him off slowly, but this time Blaine lay flat on his back on Kurt's futon, cuff's attached to the frame by chains, and Kurt curled up beside him. He rested his head against Blaine's taut stomach, feeling the ripple of contracting abdominal muscles as he got close…so close, and then relaxing when Kurt stopped to sketch.

Kurt smiled when he pulled away to scratch out the details of his design and heard Blaine's drawn out, shuddering sigh. He might have to design all of his clothes this way, Kurt thought, not just when he was under a serious time frame crunch. Imagine what his clients, potential and existing, would think if it got out that he dominated Blaine's body this way to get his inspiration.

He could raise his labor costs another 10% and truthfully all of his kinky customers would probably be more than happy to pay. It was an amusing prospect to consider, but he wouldn't think of exploiting Blaine that way. Besides, it was more exciting to have this as his dirty little secret. He couldn't reveal all his tricks, after all.

Sketch book and charcoal pencils spread out over the red futon beside him, Ms. Unique's new costume was coming together quickly…at the same time so was Blaine. As detailed and ornate as Ms. Unique wanted it, the mermaid style dress was really nothing to toss together; Kurt had made others like it before, but he had other issues on his mind, other problems and concerns that fought over each other in his muddled brain to find resolution. They twisted and torqued together, tightening everywhere in Kurt's body. He needed to release them, needed to control them.

He needed Blaine; his body, his love, and everything else that went along with him.

His submission.

His obedience.

His heart.

Kurt took his time, enjoying the feeling of Blaine's smooth skin against his tongue; his clean, masculine smell that seemed to grow stronger with the heat of his arousal. He left Blaine ungagged and un-blindfolded. He craved the broken sound of Blaine's wanton moan; longed for the light of his glowing golden eyes and the raw lust growing in them. He needed to be reminded that no matter what, body and soul, Blaine belonged to him; forever belonged to him. That work and t.v. shows and eight new dresses needed in two weeks weighing down his schedule and forcing the two of them apart would never completely separate them.

Kurt blamed all this talk of weddings for making him broody, and not simply the wedding on the show. Memories hit him from all angles unexpectedly as he worked on the tuxes - of fitting Finn for his custom tux, altering Dave's and his own and his father's to match. Then there was Rachel's dress – that masterpiece of a gown, hand-woven lace overlay on a specially imported silk organza, covered in hand-stitched embroidery and crystal bead work.

During long hours alone in his studio late at night he could remember all those times he worked his fingers raw with Rachel breathing down his neck, fussing about the train and fretting over the trim until Kurt nearly went insane and sewed her mouth shut. Finally he snapped and threatened to dye the whole thing puce if she didn't quit nagging him; a tantrum which bought him about a week of uninterrupted peace in a loft devoid of Bridezilla. He always considered that gown his greatest triumph. To date he couldn't think of a single other piece that he had created that would even come close to comparing to Rachel Berry's epic wedding dress.

In more current events, Jeff still struggled over the right time to propose to Nick, and Nick, left in the dark, despaired every day that Jeff was never planning on asking him at all. It made Kurt want to scream sometimes to watch them, tip-toing around the same issue, not quite coming together – two men, madly in love, living on the same planet with their heads on different worlds.

Kurt had to force himself to grit his teeth and bear it when his forlorn friend and clueless boyfriend came over, but he swore that if he had to spend one more family dinner watching the two of them dance around the same issue just to end the night foolishly frustrated with each other that he would get down on one knee and propose to Nick for Jeff himself.

After he finished with the dress design, he shoved his sketch books and pencils to the floor, climbed onto Blaine's body and straddled his hips. He didn't need to ask if Blaine wanted this or wanted him. The wrecked look on Blaine's face, the expression of " _yes…please…now_ ," the way he held his breath as he watched Kurt carefully settle on top of him were all the assurance he needed.

Without a word Kurt removed the silk cord from Blaine's testicles, covered his aching cock with lube and slid his body down over him, engulfing Blaine in his heat, absorbing every shiver, every shift of his body, every intake of breath, and every tremor of his muscles. Kurt held Blaine down with his hands on his chest, crushing him to the mattress with his body, a silent but clear command for Blaine to lie still while Kurt fucked himself on his cock. Blaine obeyed like he always did, taking pleasure from the way Kurt writhed, head thrown back when he took Blaine to the hilt, moaning into the cool air of the room, legs quivering as the soft skin of his inner thigh brushed against Blaine's hips.

Blaine swallowed hard, trying to stifle the heat rising within him, not wanting to cum too quickly and have this all be over so soon, but how could he with this incredible, exotic creature rising and falling above him? Sometimes watching Kurt make love to him broke Blaine's heart. So many days he spent working late and then leaving their bed too early, giving the two of them barely a moment together. On those nights Kurt would greet Blaine with a shot of his favorite vodka and massaged his back till he fell asleep.

Work was a toxic environment for Blaine. Even surrounded by so many of his friends, with the promise of an end looming within reach, being in the studio with Brad hanging nearby, scowling and glaring ate away at his soul. He tried to find any way to stay connected to his Dom when they had to be apart. He couldn't wear one of Kurt's harnesses to work beneath his clothes since his character had so many costume changes and sometimes he walked around shirtless. Kurt gave him a few bites up and down his inner thighs, but he needed more than that to keep him sane.

Marking him was one thing, but ownership of Blaine was no longer in question.

He needed Kurt's total control.

Once or twice Blaine dreamt that what he had with Kurt was an illusion; the house and Kurt and his new family a figment of his imagination and he woke up in his bachelor pad after a drunken bender with Sebastian or a sordid fuck-fest with Mia. When he woke up for real he would be in tears, devastated by the idea that his perfect life was a lie, but his Dom lay there beside him to hold him and comfort him, to comb his fingers through Blaine's curls and whisper sweet words of love and affection, and if that didn't work, to sing him to sleep.

"Oh, K-kurt," Blaine stuttered, pinned down and helpless, moaning with an ecstasy that he had no control over. "Oh, Kurt. I'm going to cum…"

"Do…do you want me to uncuff you?" Kurt said, unable and unwilling to stop even for a moment to talk to Blaine.

"No," Blaine said quickly. "No, please, don't…"

Blaine whined, pleaded, rolling his wrists in his cuffs, his ankles too from what Kurt could hear of the chains rattling against the wooden frame of the futon, surrendering to heat, surrendering to pleasure…surrendering to Kurt.

"That's a good boy," Kurt panted, breathless, so ready for this moment to be real after so many frustrated nights left wanting. "Good boy. Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart? Do you want to cum for me?"

"Yes, Sir," Blaine whimpered.

Kurt hadn't ever forced Blaine to call him 'Sir' or 'Master'. For some reason, even from that first night they were together, it didn't seem right. It was new for them; something that Blaine had wanted, and now that he heard it, heard Blaine address him as 'Sir' the way so many other dominated men had, he couldn't remember why he had objected in the first place. That simple word from Blaine's lips sent fingers of electricity up and down Kurt's spine, transcending this experience of a Dom making love to his sub to a new and exciting level.

"I didn't quite hear you there, sweetheart," Kurt teased, struggling with the euphoria crackling beneath his own skin to keep his voice from faltering.

"Yes, Sir," Blaine said with more confidence, hoping for the permission he sought. After so much attention by Kurt's mouth, that skillful tongue and the sinful heat of his body, Blaine knew that no amount of obedience could keep him from cumming.

"Then why don't you fuck me, sweetheart?" Kurt said, raising a bit off Blaine's body and hovering above his hips. "You want to, don't you? You want to fuck me till you cum?"

"Yes, Sir," Blaine moaned, his whole body shaking, the jingling chains growing progressively louder.

"Then do it," Kurt commanded. "Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck me hard."

Blaine braced against the chains and slammed his hips up into Kurt's body again and again, grunting with the effort, straining to continue, not searching for his own orgasm, but Kurt's

"That's it," Kurt gasped, poised steady, taking thrust after thrust, relaxing slightly so that Blaine could reach that spot inside him that curled his toes and boiled his blood. "That's it…right there, Blaine. Faster, please, faster…"

Kurt raised his arms above his head and closed his eyes, riding Blaine's movements like a wave up and down, feeling the knots in his muscles unwind, his tense limbs slacken, his tension siphon away until his aura was scrubbed clean.

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt mumbled dopily, drunk on being fucked so perfectly by his bound and obedient sub. "I'll always love you. Do you love me?"

"God, yes," Blaine groaned, his voice rough and hoarse. "I love you so much, Kurt. I love you, I love you…"

Blaine's voice devolved into an incoherent chant in time to his thrusts and echoed the pounding fervor of Kurt's heart.

Kurt felt himself slipping further into the dark behind his closed eyes; the images that had been haunting him night and day flushed away as he came, and when Blaine followed, cursing hotly with Kurt's name wedged in between Kurt felt transformed…re-made…brand new.

"Oh my God, Kurt," Blaine moaned, panting heavily and lowering Kurt carefully back down to the mattress.

"You…you have some incredible abs there, Blaine," Kurt complimented with a proud smile, peeking down at Blaine.

"All thanks to my incredible personal trainer at Celebrity Fitness," Blaine said with a wink.

"We need…to do that…more…" Kurt panted, too tired to lift himself off Blaine's body so he simply lay down with his head on Blaine's chest where he could best listen to the racing of his heart.

"Soon enough," Blaine agreed, "the show will be done…and we can do this all night long if you want."

Kurt hummed happily, flicking out his tongue to trace a circle around Blaine's sensitive nipple.

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Kurt agreed, "but do you know what else I'd like to do when this nightmare is all over?"

"Hmmm, what?" Blaine asked, his body buzzing from his orgasm and the warmth of Kurt's body pressed against his.

"I want to take the kids on vacation. A real honest to goodness vacation." Kurt folded his hands over Blaine's chest and rested his chin between them. "They haven't really been anywhere but Legoland and the zoo since their parents died."

Blaine nodded, sighing deeply, the buzz of his fantastic orgasm fizzling out. Kurt and the kids gone; even if it was only for a couple of days it would be like his nightmare. Ave would most likely go, too. Of course he would if school didn't interfere. Dave was a huge part of those kids' lives. They were a family. Blaine wondered how long Kurt intended to take the kids away for, but it hurt a bit thinking about asking. The only thought that occupied his mind was how much he'd miss them when they were gone.

"Hey!" Kurt said, his head popping up suddenly, "we can rent an RV and travel up the coast!"

Blaine nodded again, Kurt's eyes narrowing at the hard set of Blaine's face.

"We can map out a route of fun places to go to along with every coffee shop between here and Canada!"

Blaine laughed in spite of himself at Kurt's plan.

"Why do you think the kids would want to go to every coffee shop between here and Canada?" he asked, his brow knitting together in confusion.

"No," Kurt said, sitting up and fiddling with the lock on Blaine's wrist cuffs, "the coffee shop stops are for you. You know, so you can sing and promote your CD. We can sell copies out front. I imagine we'll have to call ahead of time to make sure it's okay, but once they hear that the great Blaine Anderson wants to sing in front of their store I imagine they'll agree."

Blaine shook his head slowly, dumbfounded.

This time Kurt looked a little bit hurt and confused.

"Did…do you not want to go with us?" Kurt asked, the afterglow draining from his face and his smile fading. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think…"

"No, no!" Blaine exclaimed, sitting up and rushing into Kurt's arms, feeling Kurt's shoulders fall. "I mean, yes! Yes, I want to go with you. I…"

Kurt's blue eyes found Blaine's golden ones, and Kurt's smile returned.

"I didn't think that I was invited."

"Why do you need to be invited, Blaine?" Kurt asked. "How many times do I have to say that you're a part of this family before it sinks into your gorgeous thick skull?"

Kurt brushed Blaine's sweaty curls away from his forehead while Blaine ducked his head, blushing beneath his Dom's caring fingertips scratching into his scalp.

"Maybe one more time?" Blaine replied sheepishly, moving closer to the hand that cradled his head.

"You're a part of this family, Blaine." Kurt wrapped his arm around Blaine's shoulder and pulled him close. "You're _my_ family. Besides, do you think Eva would go anywhere without you?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Probably not," Blaine laughed softly. "Good thing, too, because you can't take her away from me." Blaine held Kurt tighter and Kurt's heart gave a strange skip at the forlorn sound in his voice; the voice of teenage Blaine, still so much a boy, whose parents turned their back on him long ago and never made an effort to see him again.

"Sorry, babe," Kurt said brightly, trying to lighten the mood, "I'm afraid you're stuck with us. You're in this for the long haul, buster."

"Buster?"

Blaine peeked back up at Kurt with a comical twist on his lips. Kurt laughed, pecking kisses on Blaine's nose, across the bridge, and over his cheeks.

"So, it's a plan," Kurt announced. "The Hudson Hummel Anderson Karofsky family vacation extravaganza slash Blaine Anderson West Coast promotional tour is a go!"

"Now that's a mouthful," Blaine chuckled, the carefree sound music to Kurt's ears.

"Nonsense," Kurt said. "It'll look great on the t-shirts I'm having made."

"What are you going to do about your classes at Celebrity Fitness?" Blaine asked with a final snicker at the thought of the group of them, children and all, wearing matching t-shirts with the font wrapping completely around their torsos to fit all of those word. "Aren't your clients going to get pissed that their star trainer won't be available for a few weeks?"

"Fuck a few weeks," Kurt said with a scowl, turning his attention to the cuffs on Blain's ankles and undoing those as well. "I intend on us running away for a couple of months at least." Kurt climbed into Blaine's lap, wrapping his arms and legs around him. "But that _is_ a good point, Anderson."

Kurt rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pretending to give the matter a great deal of serious thought.

"Fear not," he said when Blaine broke into a fit of giggles, "because I think I have a plan on how to handle that one."

* * *

"Why so blue, Magoo?"

Nick shrugged, securing a wayward piece of trim on one of the groomsmaid's dresses with a couple of running stitches.

"I guess I'm a little melancholy," Nick said, putting the dress back on a dress form so he could run the steamer over the wrinkles on the fabric, "with Blaine and Kevin and everyone on the show leaving and me staying behind, it feels like high school and everyone's graduating without me."

"Why would you stay here at the studio?" Kurt asked, putting another dress on a dress form in preparation for steaming.

"Because, I like my condo," Nick said, looking at Kurt curiously, "and without a job I won't be able to make the payments. Besides, if Jeff hasn't asked me to marry him by now, I doubt I'll look more attractive as a homeless bum."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he didn't want to launch into another lecture about patience being a virtue and giving Jeff time, especially when he had more pressing matters to discuss with his best friend.

"Well, Nick Duval, what would you say if I told you that after _Sing_ wraps up you could walk off this lot and you'd have a job waiting for you?"

Nick looked at Kurt hard, his bewildered expression morphing into something that dared to be excited and hopeful.

"What are you talking about, Kurt?" Nick asked. Kurt beckoned him closer and Nick immediately forgot the dress he was steaming.

"Come work for me, Nicky," Kurt whispered, eyes darting from side to side to make sure that the many eyes and ears of the _Sing_ gossip chain were nowhere near them before he continued. "Apparently I'm a brand name now that's expanding all over the place." Nick's eyes glanced down at Kurt's middle with a playful grin, and Kurt frowned, slapping Nick on the shoulder. "I'm serious, Nick. I need someone like you. Someone who's good with their hands and who has your impossible energy."

"But…but I can't do what you do," Nick said, his hopeful smile dissolving into his own hidden pool of self-doubt. "You're special."

"And so are you, Nick." Kurt grabbed Nick into his arms and held him close. "I've seen you do stitch and patchwork here on the set, and the alterations you've done on my gowns. Do you think I'd let anyone else touch them? You get me. You get my style, and on top of that you have an incredible eye." Kurt held Nick out at arm's length and met his misty-eyed gaze. "I'll handle the details, draw up the designs, and you help with the construction, the machine work, the hand-detailing, and this time I'll pay you in more than cupcakes."

Nick's smile dropped almost instantaneously.

"Can I get the cupcakes, too?" Nick pouted. Kurt hugged him again.

"You didn't let me get to the benefits package," he joked. His best friend giggled in his arms.

"Aaannndddd," Kurt drawled, "I know you mentioned talking about pursuing a career that might allow you and Jeff to work in concert, so I was thinking you might consider taking some of my clients down at Celebrity Fitness."

Kurt felt Nick's arms tighten around him, almost squeezing the breath out of him with his enthusiasm.

"Would they let me?" Nick asked. "Do you really think they would?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "I already talked with Tom Hardy, and as long as you can learn The Kurt Hummel Method, you're in."

Nick couldn't speak. He tried to say thank you several times but the words lodged in his throat. So instead he bounced up and down, taking Kurt along with him for the ride, laughing like mad.

"I take it that's a yes then?" Kurt laughed, his voice shaking as Nick jostled him up and down with surprising strength for such a petit man.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" Nick chanted with tears in his eyes.

"Nick Duval!" a voice barked from behind them. "If you're done feeling up Blaine Anderson's boy toy, I need you to remember that after shooting wraps we'll need to have all the dye-able shoes collected for re-dying. _Hot in Dallas_ starts shooting next week and I don't want the actor's walking off with them like you let them do last time."

Nick broke from Kurt's embrace but only partially to face the thoroughly unpleasant woman glaring at them. Kurt had seen her only a handful of times and he was immensely glad about that - Charlene from the wardrobe department. Kurt remembered Nick saying that she was always tasking him with things that weren't even his job. Collecting up shoes after the shooting was definitely not in his job description, but she obviously wouldn't have known or cared. She glared at the two of them with narrowed eyes. It was no secret that she wasn't thrilled with the arrangement that was made to placate the actors of _Sing_ , and that of all the negotiators involved Kurt Hummel was apparently at the top of her hit list.

Nick Duval usually brushed her off and did what she told him to avoid a blow-up later on, but not this time. Nick Duval had his limits and Charlene had reached them.

"Fuck you, Charlene!" Nick growled in a livid voice Kurt had never heard come from his bubbly best friend. "After this week I don't work here anymore, and even if I did, you could take your fucking cheap-ass shoes and stick them straight up that gaping hole you call an ass!"

Kurt bit his lip hard, bit it to bleeding in an attempt to keep a straight face, especially when Charlene dropped the armful of bolts she was carrying down to the wardrobe manager for the new show.

In the end he couldn't stand it. He buried his face in the crook of Nick's neck and guffawed, making a sound he was sure he couldn't be held reasonably accountable for. The portly woman, jaw dropped to her collarbone as she glared daggers at Kurt, gathered up her bolts and bustled away, murmuring out loud to herself but neither Nick or Kurt made out a word over Kurt's laughter.

"I have wanted to do that for three years," Nick said, throwing his arms back around Kurt's shoulders.

"Good for you!" Kurt choked between laughs which were quickly turning into painful heaving breaths.

"I guess that could count as me turning in my resignation," Nick chuckled, peeking around for the first time at the interested faces watching around them, each with expressions that varied from pride to amusement to the one or two disgruntled ones who scurried away with their noses in the air.

"I think so," Kurt said, "and I have to admit I like your style, Duval. Now why don't we finish these dresses so we can go watch my boyfriend get married."

* * *

It might not have been a real wedding, but it sure as hell felt like one to Kurt. They filmed it in a replica chapel patterned after St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church. Painstaking care was taken to meticulously replicate every intricate detail from the scrolled marble columns to the massive gold gilded Stations of the Cross mural behind the altar. The amount of work put into the set and scenery seemed excessive to Kurt, who felt the mood of the ceremony would have best been reflected with an outdoor beach wedding under a clear blue sky with the ocean rolling in the background and a flock of white doves released at the end.

Kurt might have been biased, though, since that was how he pictured his own wedding as of recent, walking down a gold satin runner set in the sand, arm in arm with his father wearing a tux that he designed, marching slowly toward a makeshift altar surrounded by the kids and Dave, all their friends and family in attendance, and a handsome man at the end of it all that looked astoundingly like Blaine.

The show execs decided on the church façade due to Kevin's character, Simon, and his constant inner turmoil – the battle of his family's religious beliefs against his own homosexuality. Simon's family disowned him earlier in the season (a storyline that Kurt imagined had to be difficult for Blaine to deal with) and for a lack of anyone else to confide in Simon ends up going to his priest in the confessional and telling him about his parents and their hatred of him. In a stunning twist that was praised for its groundbreaking portrayal of a new Catholic mindset, the priest visits Simon's family and convinces them that the way they treated their son was actually contrary to the teachings of the church. In the end Simon's family welcomes him home with open arms and the priest offers to wed him and his fiancé (Blaine) in the church, setting a precedent for other Catholic churches to follow.

As much as Kurt hated the whole _Sing_ machine, he had to applaud their attempt at making a statement. If this didn't earn them an Emmy nod, nothing would.

They barely rehearsed Blaine and Kevin's vows in the hopes of capturing the nervousness of a real young couple getting married. They even hired a real pastor to perform the ceremony.

Kurt was none too thrilled about that little tidbit, but he had to admit the wedding set was beautiful.

The studio spared no expense.

Extra members of the cast and whatever crew wasn't necessary to film the shot were invited to dress up and act as guests at the wedding, including Kurt but he refused. He stood in the wings and watched the taping, finding a spot where he could get as unobstructed a view of Blaine as possible. He felt the start of tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. So many emotions filled his whole body, every corner, every crevice, filled him to bursting; it all seemed like too much. There was something surreally heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time watching the man you loved pledge his troth to someone else. His logical brain knew it wasn't real, but he couldn't help the tightness in his chest when Blaine looked into his co-star's eyes and said, "I do," or the way the Dominatrix in him wanted to storm over to the set, tear Kevin's arms from his shoulder sockets and beat him to death with the bloody stubs.

Kurt turned his head away when the pastor declared them, "Husband and Husband," to a chorus of amused titters and laughter, not particularly keen on watching the two actors kiss. Off to his left, in a darkened area of the sound stage, he caught sight of Nick laying into Jeff, and Kurt's heart sank. There were angry tears in Nick's eyes, drops rolling down his red cheeks. Jeff kept trying to grab his hand, but Nick pulled it away each time. Jeff said something that Nick apparently didn't like because he reared back to slap Jeff across the face. Kurt balled his hands into fists, taking a step in their direction, ready to put an end to this stupidity once and for all when Jeff did something Kurt didn't foresee. Jeff caught Nick's wrist as it swung forward and put Nick's hand over his heart. Nick, startled, tried to pull away, but Jeff dropped to one knee, and this time when the tears started fresh from Nick's eyes, they were accompanied by the brightest smile Kurt had ever seen from his charismatic friend. He saw Jeff pull the familiar blue box from his pocket and he knew.

Kurt sighed. He wanted to walk closer, to hear what Jeff was saying that was bringing Nick to his knees, throwing his arms around Jeff's neck and weeping so hard his entire body quaked, but he wouldn't disturb this intimate moment for the world. He knew Nick would give him the play by play later, after he'd shown Kurt the ring for the thousandth time and sighed the way Nick always did when he was overcome with emotion.

Time seemed to stop for Nick and Jeff, wrapped in each other's arms.

It stopped for Kurt, too, because before he knew it he felt a pair of strong hands out of nowhere massaging his shoulders. Blaine must have been talking to him because when Kurt didn't answer he whispered, "I asked you what did you think?" Blaine peeked past Kurt to see what in the distance had his Dom's undivided attention.

Kurt had a sudden memory of Finn proposing to Rachel on the Bow Bridge overlooking the water in Central Park. It was winter, and it was snowing. He could see it as if he had just been there, feel the chill air kiss his skin. Kurt had gone with Finn because Finn was so nervous he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way in the snow, even though he'd been to that exact same bridge over a hundred times.

Kurt stood off in the distance, shivering to the bone when his step-brother dropped to one knee and asked his best friend to be his bride. He had been beside himself. He had never seen anything so stunningly romantic in his entire life. He couldn't wait for the same thing to happen to him; for that same moment to belong to him.

He thought the same thing then, watching Finn spin a laughing/crying Rachel in his arms, that he thought now as Jeff pulled away from Nick's iron embrace long enough to cradle his head in his hands and capture his lips in their first kiss as fiancés.

"I think they're going to live happily ever after," Kurt said with a sniffle, reaching up to his shoulders to grab Blaine's hands and wrap them around his waist.

Blaine watched Jeff lift Nick into the air and spin him around in circles like giddy teenagers with his own secretive smile growing on his lips.

 _As will we,_ Blaine thought, hugging Kurt tight. _As will we._


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay guys! Here I am, back from the dead!! If you are still sticking with me, you all deserve a medal and lots of chocolate (unless you're allergic or you don't like chocolate. Then we'll find you something else.) This chapter was actually twice as long, but I've broken it up because the part after this chapter ends starts with Blaine and Eva, and I feel icky following sex with something cute involving kids. So bear with me. I'll get that second part up ASAP (my beta reader is looking at it as we speak). So, please enjoy this with my apologies for taking four months! Ugh! Bad author! Bad, bad author! P. S. I poke a little fun at all us fangirls and boys in this chapter, so please know I'm not trying to be cruel. Also, there is a mention of three fanworks in here - one is the first X-rated story I ever read, one is the title of the first porno I ever watched, and the other is the title of a one-shot that I wrote. See if you can figure out which is which ;)

“And then…and then he said…oh my gosh, I tear up every time I think about it…” Nick fanned his face with his hands to ward off a fresh batch of tears as he recounted to Kurt for the ninetieth time every intricate detail of Jeff’s proposal. Kurt shook his head, a secret smile playing on his lips, and handed Nick another tissue. Nick had told Kurt about the proposal so many times that Kurt could write a play about it and perform it by heart. He even had the vague beginnings of a musical score formulating in his head. It would even be more moving than his epic and vastly underappreciated masterpiece from high school - _Pippa the Musical_.

Jeff had found Nick standing in the wings of the set, watching the _Sing_ wedding while it was being taped, along with the rest of the cast and crew. He had pulled Nick aside for privacy and asked him why he didn’t want to be an extra in the scene (as all the non-essential crew for that episode had been offered the opportunity) since Jeff knew how fast Nick jumped at any excuse to wear a tuxedo. Nick rolled his eyes (something he always recreated at this point in the retelling) and said that he had backed out in case Kurt needed him. Kurt had been confused by that remark the first time Nick told him the story, but Nick explained that he wasn’t sure how Kurt would react to watching the love of his life get married to another man (even if it was all just for the show). So apparently while Kurt was sincerely considering breaking off Kevin’s arms and beating him with them, Nick was surreptitiously watching Kurt for any sign that he might need an intervention by his best friend.

It touched Kurt deeply to know that someone had been looking out for him, even if he only found out in retrospect, hence the huge batch of late night Nutella crepes Kurt was whipping up, along with four batches of flavored popcorn for an impromptu movie night. Blaine had managed to finagle a preview copy of the final five episodes of _Sing_ , and they had the whole group gathered – Blaine, Kurt, Nick, Jeff, Dave and Adam - at Kurt’s house to watch the shows back to back.

“He said…” Nick continued past a sob.

At this point in the story, Kurt always stopped to listen. Nick may have repeated this story more times than necessary - enough times that Kurt had it memorized - but this part was admittedly Kurt’s favorite.

It was also the part that made Kurt pea green with jealousy.

“He said that he loved me from the first moment he saw me…God…” Nick stopped to blow his nose in his tissue, a single tear racing down his cheek, “I remember that day. We were just kids back then. What did we know about love?” Nick shook his head and chuckled. “Anyway, he said that from that moment on, every time he pictured his future, it had me in it…”

In the months that Kurt had become best friends with Nick, he had heard the fairytale love story of Nick and Jeff’s humble beginnings numerous times. They had grown up together, been high school sweethearts, and even though they had both dallied in relationships with other people, they did so knowing in their hearts that they would end up together.

Kurt remembered being in high school and thinking that his boyfriend Darren would be his one and only for the rest of his life. It would begin with them living in a loft in New York City – nothing fancy, just a stylishly shabby-chic decorated space for two struggling performers starting out. There would be endless days of performing, practicing, all-night movie marathons, and making love – wherever and whenever they wanted. Eventually, they would get discovered, either in an off-Broadway salute to Sondheim, or in Darren’s case, a quaint coffee house on the Upper East Side. He dreamt of the two of them working in concert as singer and songwriter, or both singers. They would perform in sold out venues. Darren would write all their music and Kurt would design and make all their costumes. It would be a life that surrounded them – their own bubble of bliss. It would be perfect.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

Kurt didn’t believe in God, but every once in a while he _did_ pray, in case someone out there was listening who could lend a helping hand. He had so many trials throughout his life, with his mother dying, then his father getting sick, and pretty much all of high school.

After he and Darren broke up, Kurt had prayed - through tears and muffled negotiations with whatever deity might be out there floating around in the universe - that he would find some way to get Darren back. Kurt eventually wised up and saw Darren for the asswipe he truly was. In the end, Kurt considered it a blessing that the two of them never got back together.

Kurt remembered telling Dave that story once, on one of the first nights they spent transitioning from friends to co-guardians. Dave told Kurt that just because he didn’t get Darren back didn’t prove the non-existence of God.

Kurt respected Dave’s opinion, but he had been incredulous to the notion.

“Isn’t God supposed to be some kindly, white-haired, grandfatherly figure who answers the wishes of all those who pray to him?” Kurt had argued.

“It doesn’t quite work like that,” Dave had said with a laugh. “Besides, nothing says that God _didn’t_ answer your prayer.”

“Really?” Kurt had said, putting his hands on his hips, highly dubious of Dave’s assumption. “So, you’re saying he answered my prayer?”

“Yup,” Dave had said, putting an arm around Kurt’s shoulder and squeezing him tightly. “He _did_ answer. He said _no_.”

Kurt had to admit, if that was the case, he was glad to have his request denied.

“What do you think Blaine will say when he asks you to marry him?” Nick asked, interrupting Kurt’s moment of nostalgia.

“What?” Kurt asked, staring at Nick as he eagerly dug into his fifth crepe.

“When Blaine proposes?” Nick repeated, swallowing a mouthful of chewed food and going for another bite. “What do you think he’s going to say?”

Kurt smirked.

“What makes you think he’s going to ask me?” he teased, knowing full well that Blaine would. He had said so himself. They had talked it over many times. Provided nothing outlandish and unexpected went awry, that was still the plan.

But he didn’t have to let Nicky know that yet.

“Yeah, right,” Nick said, licking Nutella off his chin, subtly flashing his expensive new engagement ring. Kurt rolled his eyes. Nick had flashed that ring so many times since Jeff slipped it on his finger, Kurt wasn’t sure Nick even realized that he was doing it anymore. “If he’s not planning on asking you to marry him, then my underwear isn’t Versace.”

Kurt barked out a laugh. Weeks ago, while _Sing_ was taping late and they were alone working in Kurt’s studio, the two friends spent an hour downing Jell-O shots and discussing what type of underwear a Dom worth his salt should wear. It was an asinine conversation that contained more giggling than actual talking, but for some reason they both came to the conclusion that Doms should wear Versace.

“Is it?” Kurt asked chuckling.

Nick smiled wickedly and winked.

“Lately it is.”

“Come on, come on, come on,” Blaine said, rushing into the kitchen with Jeff and Adam, grabbing up bowls of popcorn and carrying them off to the living room, “we’ve been waiting for you two old biddies to stop your jabbering and come in with the eats.”

Jeff grabbed Nick’s plate of crepes for good measure and started off with them, with an irate Nick popping up from his seat at the table and giving chase.

“Hey!” Nick yelled after his fiancé. “Give those back!”

“Possession is 9/10th of the law in California!” Jeff chuckled, dodging a swipe from the fork Nick held in his hands.

“We’re not married yet, Sterling!” Nick growled. “So those crepes are 10/10th mine!”

“Don’t worry!” Jeff teased, deftly keeping the plate out of Nick’s reach. “I’ll only eat one.”

“You take a single bite of those crepes, Jeff, and I swear I’m going in after it!”

“Hey, Jeff!” Blaine joined in the jeering. “No deep-throating your fiancé in the living room!”

Dave groaned out loud and Adam dissolved into laughter, putting an arm through Dave’s and leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Kurt watched the scene unfolding before him with a fond smile – Dave and Adam cuddled on the couch while Blaine watched Nick barrel after Jeff in an effort to retrieve his snack. Nick lunged for his intended, missing the man’s arm with the tines of his fork by barely an inch. Kurt said another brief prayer – a prayer that Jeff didn’t get fatally wounded when Nick _did_ finally manage to stab him.

Kurt knew that Nick loved Jeff more than anything in the world, but even Kurt knew not to get between that man and his Nutella crepes.

***

Kurt snuggled beneath Blaine’s arm, discreetly wiping away tears that had rolled down his cheeks. He had forgotten what good actors Kevin and Blaine were, especially in their scenes together. Kurt had a love/hate relationship with _Sing_ lately, colored most especially by his own private dealings with certain _Sing_ executives (who would remain nameless, even in his own head). But watching the last five episodes reminded Kurt why he loved the series to begin with. It reminded him what a powerful influence its characters and storylines had been on his life.

Watching it had made him feel like he wasn’t alone.

It was bittersweet, knowing it was coming to an end, but this was everything he had hoped for – the character story arcs finally resolved, with the super happy wedding that fans had been vying for on all forms of social media for months and months.

It would be absolutely perfect if not for the constant interruption of muffled giggles during the most inappropriate parts of the show.

Kurt snapped his head around at the sound of snickering coming from the far end of the sofa, where Adam and Dave were huddled over Adam’s iPhone.

“Guys,” Kurt whined, sniffling into his tissue, “we’re trying to enjoy a romantic moment here.”

“So are we,” Dave chuckled, using his finger to scroll down the screen.

“Ewww, are you guys watching porn?” Nick groaned, standing a bit to try and catch a glimpse of the image on the screen.

“Not exactly,” Adam said. “Did you know there’s _Sing_ fanfiction online?”

“Oh, God, yeah,” Blaine grumbled, dropping his head back and scrubbing his hands down his face. “Some of it’s kind of iffy, but there’s a lot that’s really good. In fact, there’s a rumor that the entire second season of _Sing_ was based off of fanfiction.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow and Blaine nodded.

“It’s true,” Nick agreed, leaning back into the crook of his fiance’s arm.

“Well, the way _you-know-who_ managed that show, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Kurt commented.

“Have you read some of these?” Dave asked, his grin twisting in one corner like he was holding back a secret.

“Not lately,” Blaine admitted. “I stopped reading them after the first half of season three. I mean, I like Kev and all, but some of what our fans write is a bit much.”

“Uh, this isn’t about you and Kevin,” Adam said, sliding down the length of the couch with Dave in tow.

“Me and Kev, me and Seb, me and Mia, me and that guy in season one that played the football coach - you name it, they wrote it.” Blaine hugged Kurt close, leaning in to kiss him quickly but deeply on the mouth, as if needing to replace a sour taste with a sweet one.

“These aren’t about you and your cast mates,” Adam said, coming to a stop beside Blaine and handing his phone over. “These are about you and Kurt.”

“What?” Kurt climbed onto his knees and leaned over Blaine’s shoulder while Blaine scrolled through the fanfiction website created for and devoted entirely to stories about Blaine and Kurt – _Dress You Up in My Love_.

“Oh my God!” Kurt exclaimed, looking at the titles and cringing. “ _Leather and Lace_? _Pound My Hole_? _Punishing Baby Boy Blaine_? These titles are…”

“Awful,” Nick finished.

Blaine clicked on one of the titles and read quietly to himself, his eyebrows shooting straight up to his hairline at one point.

“Can you actually do that?” Blaine asked, looking over at Kurt with a hopeful smile.

“Well, yeah, I _am_ that flexible,” Kurt replied, the sound of pride in his voice not missed by most of the men. “But not for seven hours. You’d damage something important.”

“There’s not just stories,” Jeff said, scrolling through the screen of his own phone, “there’s pictures, too.”

“Pictures?” Kurt grabbed Jeff’s phone out of his hands. “What the…” Kurt squinted his eyes at the screen, tapping it to make the photo larger. “Wait…I recognize that suit you’re wearing, Blaine, but I wasn’t at that event. How did they get this?”

Blaine took the phone from Kurt and looked at the picture on the screen – a shot of Blaine at one of the last _Sing_ press junkets, but with Kurt standing next to him instead of Mia.

“That’s a manip,” Nick said, peeking at the photograph. “Someone Photoshopped you in, Kurt, in place of Mia.”

“I’m not sure what I think about that,” Kurt said with a half-smile on his lips.

“I think it looks a lot better this way,” Blaine said smiling. “That’s the way I wish it had been.”

Kurt sighed, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck and hugging him tight.

“Here.” Blaine handed Jeff back his phone, reaching into his pocket for his own. He opened a browser window, accessed the same site Jeff had, and found the pictures.

“What are you doing?” Kurt asked, watching Blaine scroll through the pictures and select a few for download.

“Have you ever dropped a piece of chocolate donut beside a line of ants going about their daily business, and then watch them freak out?” Blaine smirked. He started tweeting the manips with captions like, “Well, done!”, “This is gorgeous!”, “I want more of these!”, and “That’s the way I remember it.”

“Not intentionally,” Kurt said, “but I think I get the idea.”

Within seconds, Blaine’s Twitter feed blew up with tweets from his fans.

_Oh my God! He saw that!_

_Guys! That one was mine! He liked mine!_

_LOL! OMG! I think I’m going to die!!_

_*The feels*!_

_ASDJFKH*N;CE;BJWEFB43UBC!!_

“You’re a bad man,” Kurt said, giggling.

“Nah,” Blaine said. “They put a lot of work into those. They deserve some recognition.” He pulled Kurt into his lap, snaking his arms around Kurt’s waist and holding him close, their foreheads touching as Blaine stared deep into Kurt’s smiling eyes. “Besides,” Blaine whispered, “I wish there had been more of you in my past. At least I have you for the future.”

***

It was after two in the morning, when their guests finally left, and Dave and Adam had retired to Dave’s bedroom, that Kurt dragged Blaine to bed.

“Have you still got your plug in?” Kurt asked, unzipping Blaine’s jeans and reaching down behind his ass to check.

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine replied docilely, his hands locked behind his neck to give Kurt better access to his body.

“You’re so good, Blaine,” Kurt cooed, taking the plug by the base and working it slowly in and out of his sub’s stretched hole. “So good at keeping our secret,” Kurt praised, planting a bite to Blaine’s chin. “So strong and disciplined.”

Blaine’s mind reeled but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t moan from the decadent feeling of the large plug being twisted and pulled. He didn’t smile at the praise heaped on him by his Dom. He stared at the floor while Kurt had his way, slowly undressing him, moving when he was commanded so Kurt could strip him bare, exposing the only thing he wore beneath his dark indigo jeans and black Henley shirt – a black jockstrap and a harness of black leather straps buckled across his chest.

“Mmmm,” Kurt hummed in appreciation at the view he had of his mostly naked sub – arms still raised with his hands behind his neck; firm, tight ass perfectly displayed between the straps of the underwear he wore; the smooth, obsidian base of the plug peeking out from his crack; and the thick restraints with their shiny silver buckles fastened in a line down his sternum. “I know exactly how I want you,” Kurt said, pulling off his deep purple cashmere sweater and hanging it in his closet. “I want you to ride me.”

That got a reaction. Blaine’s throat tightened and his eyes almost rose to meet Kurt’s gaze before he caught himself.

Kurt, unbuttoning the fly of his jeans, felt the change in his sub in an instant.

“Do you have any objections to that, sweetheart?” Kurt asked, continuing to peel his jeans down his legs.

“No, Sir,” Blaine said flatly. “If that’s what you want, Sir.”

Kurt borrowed a moment when he should have reacted to hang up his jeans before he addressed his sub again. Blaine didn’t like that position for some reason. No, it wasn’t just that he didn’t like it; it broke him down emotionally, and Kurt had no idea why. As open as they were with each other, this was a subject they rarely ever broached. All Kurt knew was that Blaine didn’t like to be looked at that way, and Kurt desperately wanted to know why.

“Come on,” Kurt said, hooking a finger beneath the middle strap buckled across Blaine’s chest and pulling him toward the bed. Kurt climbed backward onto the mattress, tugging Blaine along with him. “No hands,” Kurt commanded when Blaine lost his balance and almost moved his arms. “Keep your hands high where I can see them.”

Kurt lay out on his back with his head on the pillow and beckoned Blaine to him with his index finger.

“You’re going to straddle my hips,” Kurt commanded. He reached beneath his pillow for a bottle of lube, squirted a dollop into his palm, and slathered his rapidly hardening cock. “And you’re going to ride me just like this…put those powerful thighs of yours to good use.”

Blaine straddled Kurt’s legs and worked his way up his Dom’s body, stopping short of Kurt’s hips. Kurt stroked himself slowly as he watched his sub. Blaine looked down at Kurt, at the hand fondling his cock, but not up to his Dom’s eyes. His cheeks colored immediately and Kurt frowned.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, looking up at his sub, whose eyes were fixed on his Dom’s chest. “Blaine…please, look at me.”

Blaine raised his eyes reluctantly but obediently.

Kurt gave Blaine a small smile that he didn’t return.

“I know you have an issue with this,” Kurt began. “I know you don’t like to be looked at, and I don’t understand why, but you have to know how gorgeous you are.”

Blaine didn’t answer. Technically, he didn’t have permission to, but his uncomfortable silence tugged at Kurt’s heart.

“I’ll never make you do something that you don’t want to do,” Kurt continued, “but you said that you wanted to stretch your boundaries, right?”

Again, Blaine made no move to respond.

“Answer me, please,” Kurt said, letting a little of his Dom power slip, addressing Blaine not as a sub, but as the man he loved instead.

“Correct, Sir,” Blaine responded in a clipped voice.

“Then, we’re going to do this, and you’re going to watch me,” Kurt instructed. Blaine chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Watch my face, Blaine. Watch me enjoy you.”

Blaine didn’t look any more comfortable with the idea, but he didn’t safe word…he didn’t object.

Kurt sat up and reached behind Blaine’s body. He grabbed the base of the plug and pulled the device out of Blaine’s hole, setting it aside. Kurt lay back down and held the base of his cock, keeping it erect.

“Come on,” Kurt said with a playful wink. “Climb on up, sweetheart.”

Blaine struggled a bit getting into the proper position. Without the use of his hands, he had to rely on his legs to keep him steady. After weeks of taking Kurt’s classes at _Celebrity Fitness_ , Blaine was confident he could probably crush a watermelon with his thighs. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was balance. He didn’t want to fall forward onto Kurt’s upright cock.

That would definitely be a mood breaker.

Blaine watched his Dom relax beneath him, stretched out on the bed, waiting without a worry or a care. Kurt trusted Blaine to be obedient. He trusted Blaine to do this right.

Kurt trusted Blaine with everything.

Blaine climbed up over his Dom’s cock, bending forward slightly and spreading his legs to separate his cheeks, and then he pressed his gaping hole against Kurt’s blunt head.

“Yes,” Kurt moaned as Blaine slid down over him. “Look at my good boy.” Blaine moved carefully so as not to hurt Kurt. Taking his Dom was easy, opened up wide the way he was and not battling any burn or stretch. He settled down onto Kurt’s lap and listened to him sigh with contentment, a sound that normally filled Blaine with deep satisfaction.

Blaine wanted to open up for Kurt in this position. He wanted to preen in his discipline and his obedience like the good sub he was. But he didn’t feel gorgeous, and he didn’t feel beautiful.

He felt unattractive and self-conscious.

The truth was that Blaine didn’t like to be looked at. He had spoken with Kurt briefly about this before, and it was an enigma as far as Kurt was concerned. How were things different when they made love every other time, every other way? When Kurt was above him, looking down at him? Kurt was still looking at him in that position.

Maybe it was because Blaine was lying beneath Kurt, where he felt he belonged.

Blaine loved Kurt for a million reasons. One of those reasons, Blaine realized early on, was because of what an extraordinary man Kurt was. He was a better man than most Blaine had met in his life.

A better man than Blaine, by far.

Kurt would definitely disagree, but sometimes specters of Blaine’s old life would haunt his head and tell him that he was worthless.

His parents.

Sebastian...well, _old_ Sebastian.

All of them helped to propagate the product that became known as _Blaine Anderson_ , lead actor of _Sing -_ a person who did noble things in front of the cameras and ridiculed people off camera.

That’s what he had done to Kurt.

Blaine didn’t like the person he was before.

He didn’t like that people _looked up_ to that person.

So this position – with the most exceptional man he knew in his life looking up at him - was almost unbearable.

“I love this, Blaine,” Kurt moaned as he lay back with his arms behind his head, letting Blaine do all the work. “I love watching you fuck yourself on me. You’re so amazingly strong…”

Blaine snapped his hips harder and Kurt gasped, arching his back, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Oh God, Blaine,” Kurt moaned, his voice shaking. “Oh my…oh my God…”

Kurt’s mouth moved around the words, but no sound came out except for the occasional grunt and nonsense syllable. He had gone incoherent, moving his hips up into his sub’s body. His hands began to roam Blaine’s legs restlessly, raking up his thighs with his nails, finding his cock and stroking it through the smooth, silky fabric of the jockstrap.

Blaine’s whole body shuddered. With his hands still locked behind his neck, he had to fight to maintain control of his lower body, to keep moving his hips with Kurt’s hands exploring, stroking faster, reaching beneath him to fondle his balls, all the while moaning long strings of sound that morphed into obscenities and often times Blaine’s name.

“Yes, Blaine…oh, yes…fuck…God, yes…”

Blaine felt Kurt deep inside him, reaching all those places that made Blaine’s toes curl, made his heart skips beats in his chest. Blaine bit his tongue so he wouldn’t call out Kurt’s name, but that didn’t matter – Kurt was moaning loud enough for both of them.

“Blaine!” Kurt gasped, his voice high and strained. He spread his legs and dug his heels into the mattress for leverage, grabbing at the blankets around him, thrusting up into Blaine’s body, all the while staring into Blaine’s face, even when Blaine wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Oh, Blaine…” Kurt’s voice broke in the most delicious way as he spoke, “I’m going to cum, sweetheart. I’m going to cum, and you’re not even close.”

Blaine wanted to be close. He wanted to be able to do that for Kurt, but he couldn’t, and before he could try to figure out a way, Kurt’s hips stuttered beneath him. Blaine felt his Dom come undone. Kurt dug his fingernails into Blaine’s thighs. He chanted, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” over and over, arching his back, trying to stay connected to Blaine as long as possible.

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt sighed as he came down off his high, “oh, baby...oh, sweetheart. You didn’t cum at all, did you?”

Blaine kept his eyes downcast. There was no way for him to answer that question without feeling like a failure. Kurt wanted to help him. Kurt tried to help him. Kurt used his gorgeous body and his love for his sub. He did everything he could.

So, it had to have been Blaine who failed.

“You were such a good boy,” Kurt panted, climbing out from under Blaine’s body and smiling his most impish, seductive smile. “Doing what I wanted. Making me cum. I think you need to be rewarded.”

Blaine didn’t feel like he deserved a reward, but he had no intention of arguing with his Dom.

Kurt kept that devilish smile glued to his face as he turned Blaine around, facing his back toward the head of the bed.

“Now, you’re going to sit over here,” Kurt said, maneuvering Blaine around so he sat with his back to the wall behind him, “you’re going to keep your hands behind your neck, and you’re going to take what I give you.”

Blaine’s arms ached from being held up so long, but he tried not to let it show. He could do this. He could do what was being asked of him. It wasn’t all that hard.

With a hand on Blaine’s thighs, Kurt pushed his sub’s legs apart, sinking down between them to where Blaine’s cock was only half-hard.

“First, we need to get this guy a little more interested in what’s going on,” Kurt teased, mouthing over the bulge in Blaine’s jockstrap. Feeling Kurt’s hot breath through the thin fabric made Blaine go hard immediately. _This_ Blaine was familiar with. _This_ sensation Blaine could get lost in. Kurt pulled down the front of Blaine’s underwear with his teeth and sank his mouth over Blaine’s cock, sucking slowly, then quickly, taking him as far down the back of his throat as he could, and then pulling back and teasing over the head.

Blaine whimpered softly, not wanting to be too loud, but he couldn’t help himself. He and Kurt did a lot of things together, but this Kurt excelled at.

When Blaine got close enough that he would finally cum, Kurt backed off, pulling off Blaine’s cock completely and blowing cool air over the shaft. Blaine whined out into the open air. He couldn’t help it. Maybe he couldn’t cum in the position they were in before, but it was still a long time to spend with Kurt’s cock assaulting his prostate. He needed release and Kurt had refused him that.

“This isn’t a punishment, sweetheart,” Kurt said, anticipating the reason behind his sub’s reaction. “I want to make you feel really good.” He spoke the words against the sensitive skin of Blaine’s shaft, and every puff of air from between Kurt’s lips was its own distinct torture. Kurt licked up along the sides, swirling his tongue around the base, moving slowly up and down, taking his time tasting Blaine before he sank his mouth over him again.

This time Kurt sucked harder, more insistently, stopping from time to time to rise up on his knees and kiss Blaine on the mouth. Blaine moaned past his Dom’s lips, his hands behind his head itching to touch Kurt, to card trembling fingers through Kurt’s hair and pull at the strands gently the way Kurt liked.

“Mmmm,” Kurt hummed over Blaine’s cock, feeling his sub shiver uncontrollably. He licked a trail up Blaine’s abs and over his chest before reaching his mouth for one last kiss. “Your skin tastes so good, and you’re so ready to cum. You can barely stand it, can you?”

Kurt didn’t let Blaine answer, nibbling Blaine’s lip and kissing him hard, sucking his sub’s tongue into his mouth. Kurt heard Blaine’s shaking arms knock against the wall behind him as he continued to bite and suck at the contours of Blaine’s mouth.

“So, maybe I should let you finish, huh?” Kurt whispered, “Instead of being cruel and keeping you like this for hours and hours?”

At this point, Blaine didn’t care which Kurt chose. He wanted Kurt. Five more minutes of torture, an hour of torture, it didn’t matter, as long as it was Kurt – all Kurt.

But Blaine underestimated the boundaries of his own endurance. It took barely a second when Kurt put his talented mouth on him again before Blaine came hard down his Dom’s throat with Kurt’s hands gripping Blaine’s thighs hard, keeping him pinned to the bed. Blaine moaned through his orgasm, but groaned when Kurt wouldn’t stop, sucking him hard even as he became soft and oversensitive. Blaine didn’t ask why and Kurt didn’t remove his mouth from Blaine’s aching cock to explain. Kurt continued to suck when he knew Blaine had reached his limit, and everything from here on out would be almost painful. Blaine gritted his teeth, his legs shaking beyond his control so that the whole bed shifted beneath them. Kurt curled his fingers into Blaine’s skin, keeping him locked in place while he tormented him, until Blaine growled out between clenched teeth, and Kurt let him go.

Kurt kneeled up to address his sub, tugging at the straps around his chest in a brief show of frustration.

“Now _that_ was punishment,” Kurt said, but not cruelly, “because you won’t talk to me about this.”

Blaine dropped his head.

“I don’t…I don’t know how,” Blaine confessed.

“Well, you usually start by opening your mouth and talking,” Kurt said, unbuckling the straps from Blaine’s chest, removing them one at a time and tossing them to the floor.

“It’s that simple, huh?” Blaine answered wryly.

“Yes,” Kurt retorted with an equal amount of sarcasm. “You open your mouth and speak words, and don’t stop until you’re done.”

“Okay,” Blaine said, looking down his body to where Kurt’s fingers worked at the buckles on his chest. “So I simply open my mouth and tell you that sometimes I don’t like who I am? That I regret every choice I made before I met you? That I don’t think I’m worthy of your respect? Is that how this works?”

Kurt’s fingers stopped on the last buckle. Blaine had snapped at him, which wasn’t something Blaine did all too often, so it definitely caught Kurt’s attention. But Blaine didn’t sound angry.

He sounded ashamed.

“Yes,” Kurt said quietly, working through the last buckle. “That’s exactly what you do. Oh, honey…”

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and Blaine fell forward into Kurt’s chest. Kurt grabbed hold of Blaine’s arms and lowered them, massaging his shoulders and his arms, relaxing tight muscles with strong kneading from his fingers.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, baby…” Kurt cradled Blaine’s head against his chest when he felt a tear fall against his skin, “I truly am. I wish I could change that for you.”

Blaine shook his head.

“You are changing it. You have, in so many ways. It’s…it’s this one thing, and I wish I could be comfortable with that. I wish I could do that for you.”

Kurt sighed, dropping kisses into the curls on the crown of Blaine’s head.

“If we do that again, it’s for you,” Kurt said. “If we do that again, it will be in your time, alright?”

Blaine nodded his head, but he didn’t look up, and Kurt wouldn’t force him.

“We’ll work on it,” Kurt promised, holding Blaine close. “We’ll find a way together.”

 


	50. Punishment

Blaine shuddered, attempting to take a breath in, but failing; the resulting inhale, sharp and painful, burning his lungs, an acrid poison seeping in through his sinuses. Blood rushed through his body and roared in his ears, pounding in his skull with the deafening ferocity of an ocean plunging thousands of feet over the side of a ravine. Sweat didn't drip down his skin, didn't trickle, it poured out his body, effusing from every pore. He was sweating in places that he didn't realize could even sweat. He felt it weave through his curls in streams, collecting at his hairline, then racing down his face. It tickled his nose and stung his eyes. He swiped at his forehead with the back of an equally sweaty hand, but it kept coming, kept tormenting him; he couldn't wipe it away fast enough.

His soaked shirt clung to his back and chest, tightening around him when he found the strength to move. He cursed his sweat pants for trapping in every last degree of his body heat. One pathetic fan, oscillating in the corner of the stifling room, did nothing to cool his overheated skin. Instead, it simply relocated the hot air, shifting it back and forth from one side of the room to the other, taunting him with the promise of a relief it could not deliver. If there was any way Blaine could strip down to his boxer briefs, he would have. He didn't think anyone would really mind. None of the blank faces surrounding him seemed concerned with his agony. But Blaine didn't have control. His _Dom_ had all the control and he exercised it cruelly. Blaine knew Kurt wouldn't allow him to disrobe.

Besides, Blaine wasn't really in the mood to get arrested.

Blaine groaned, bowing his head, gritting his teeth at the cramp creeping up his back and torquing his muscles. But just as he thought he'd reached his brink, Kurt punished him again, over and over, pushing him towards the edge till his heart hammered against his ribs and his muscles screamed for mercy.

One glance at his reflection in the mirror in front of him told Blaine that he couldn't take much more, but he had no choice. Safety words were strictly forbidden in _this_ den of torture.

"Come on, precious," Kurt commanded in his sing-song voice, filled with equal parts sweetness and menace. "Keep up."

A titter of high-pitched laughter followed Kurt's demeaning reprimand, the noise multiplying until the whole room echoed with it. Blaine didn't have the will in him to care at this point. His arms could no longer handle the strain and hung limply at his sides. His feet had gone numb. He moved by momentum alone. The burning in his lungs became so torturous, he started holding his breath.

That turned out to be a huge mistake.

Blaine's vision began to blur. A thick haze obscured his vision, the dizzying euphoria that came with oxygen deprivation washing through him, replacing the pain. Suddenly, Blaine couldn't _stop_ himself from moving, lured in this strange dance by the high-pitched sound of Kurt's voice, his laughter, even his occasional insults at Blaine's expense. Blaine was powerless against it, against Kurt's manipulating him like a puppet, plying his sub to his will.

Blaine began to giggle. That giggle echoed, but when it bounced back to his ears, it sounded peculiar. The voices pinging around his ears didn't entirely resemble his own. His limbs, still moving without his express permission, started to falter. The world tilted and spun, picking up speed. He was standing in one spot but had the bizarre experience of seeing everything at once, in front of and behind him.

"Blaine?" A beautiful voice, full of worry, broke through the haze - his black swan becoming his angel again. "Blaine!"

Blaine felt himself fall through the air, limbs light as he plummeted to the hard wood floor. Blaine stared toward the ceiling, blank eyes open, his whole body heavy - too heavy and tired to even blink.

Blaine felt effervescent - amazingly high. He giggled again, his chest heaving as it turned into a cough. His giggles rebounded. He began to enjoy the effect of giggling into blurry space and hearing it return to him, oddly cloned and twisted. Blaine saw blurred images gather around him, swaying slightly. He reached his hand out toward them, but they seemed to bob away like balloons playing on a breeze.

Suddenly, from out of the fog, a single image became clear. Kurt stood over him, hands on hips, his lips twisted into an amused smirk.

One of the fuzzy hallucinations came closer.

"Mr. Humble," the hallucination said with a, frankly, adorable lisp, "your friend fell down."

"I know, Jonathan," Kurt replied, "but I'm sure he'll be alright."

"What should we do with him?" another blur with bright red hair asked.

"Should we call an am'blance?" asked an identical blur standing beside it.

Kurt peered at Blaine more closely. Blaine blinked, eyes fighting to focus on the images that swam in front of him, but the effort made him spectacularly nauseous, so he decided to close his eyes and rest his head back on the floor beneath him.

"Nah," Kurt said to the class of nervous kids. "He'll be fine. Just try not to trip on him."

The kids giggled and joked, wandering back to their spots on the workout room floor, but Kurt stayed behind, tsk-tsking as he looked down at his exhausted sub.

"Really, princess," Kurt commented out of earshot of the children, looking down at Blaine in mock disgust. "This is a Zumba class for four- to six-year-olds, and you can't keep up?"

Blaine moaned in reply, hoping for pity, but Kurt shook his head. Blaine wanted to say something witty, to come up with a compelling defense, but the power of speech no longer belonged to him. He gave up. With a sigh, he rolled onto his stomach, pressing his cheek to the cool floor. Another low moan later, he succumbed to sleep. Kurt chuckled when he saw Blaine's breathing even out.

"We have a lot of work to do, sweetheart," Kurt said mischievously. "A _lot_ of work." He pressed a kiss to his fingertips, and pressed his fingertips to Blaine's cheek. Then he straightened and turned back to his class.

"Okay, kids. From the top, and avoid the sleeping man on the floor. Five, six, seven, eight…"

*** **A/N:** _This was written as a one-shot of the original story, but it was actually meant to fit in before chapter 49, since chapter 49 makes mention to Blaine working out at Celebrity Fitness._


	51. The Perfect Promise

**A/N:** _This was a one-shot written for this story, but has been revised as a lead-in to the next chapter, chapter 50. :)_

It was late, and it was getting cold - colder than usual for an L.A. evening, especially in the summer. Dave tagged along behind Blaine from store to store for the past seven hours with no luck. The trendiest jewelers and boutiques from West Hollywood to Beverly Hills had nothing unique, nothing special, nothing that would come close to being anywhere near perfect for Kurt.

Dave sighed, sympathetic _and_ extremely exhausted, as he watched his frantic friend dash from glass case to glass case, exasperated, with seemingly no hope in sight.

Blaine Anderson - super suave, charming, up-and-coming rock star Blaine Anderson – normally the picture of calm and composure, looked so close to combusting that Dave had started standing at a safe distance. Saleswomen at every store they went to tripped over themselves like lovesick teenagers to help Blaine find what he was searching for, and every time they failed, they looked utterly deflated. Every woman wanted Blaine, and since they knew they couldn't have him, being the one to help him choose the most important purchase of his life might be the next best thing. But Blaine didn't care about their hurt feelings. He didn't care about the fans who gawked openly at his frustration, or the paparazzi who showed up in droves to get photographic proof of what entertainment mags all over had long suspected.

Blaine Anderson would soon be, well and truly, "off the market".

Dave watched Blaine sift through ring after ring after ring, photogs getting so bold that they came up right next to him to snap his picture. At one point, Blaine asked one for an opinion, not realizing that the man hovering beside him wasn't Dave. Dave sighed, pushing the photographer aside to offer his two-cents, which was, "That one's nice, but I think you and I both know it's not Kurt." Blaine groaned a pathetic, "You're right," as he dropped his head to the glass. Dave's heart hurt for the man, this best friend of his that he never actually wanted.

Blaine had reached his wits' end. Their last stop was Tiffany's – Kurt's fantasy, the Alexander McQueen of jewelry stores - and still Blaine found nothing. He gazed desperately in the last case – the absolute and final case of men's rings – his eyes bloodshot, his hair a bedraggled mop, while a perky, strawberry blonde saleswoman leaned provocatively over the glass, watching Blaine with an unashamed, lustful stare. Dave rolled his eyes.

 _'Classy,'_ he thought with a grimace. ' _Shopping for an engagement ring and the poor man still can't catch a break.'_

Dave intercepted his frazzled friend, giving a stern nod to the salesperson, silently dismissing the woman, who obnoxiously sidled to the side a grand total of a foot. Dave held Blaine by the upper arms and met his gaze.

"Blaine," Dave said evenly, "you have to calm down."

Blaine swallowed hard, shaking his head, sending his mass of unchecked curls flying.

"We're in Tiffany's, Dave. TIFFANY'S for fuck's sake!" Blaine reached up and tugged at handfuls of his own hair, the way he did every time they failed for the past hour. "If I can't find something perfect here…"

"Blaine…relax."

"No," Blaine muttered, "you don't understand." Blaine looked panicked. "I can't find it. It doesn't exist! The perfect ring for Kurt doesn't exist!"

"Blaine…"

"I've checked everywhere, Dave!" Blaine whined, on the verge of hyperventilating. "Every jewelry store in L.A.! Every online store! Website after website for artisans in Europe, and…and…I just can't find it!"

"Blaine…" Dave wasn't a fan of hysterics, but at least he was used to them by now, "it doesn't have to be _perfect_ …"

"Yes!" This time Blaine almost screamed. "Yes, Dave! It _does_ have to be perfect! Don't you understand? It's not just a gift, Dave! It's more than a gift! It's a promise!"

Dave rolled his eyes, but he couldn't shove away the smile on his face.

 _'Actors,'_ he thought. _'So much drama.'_ Dave thanked the stars above that he would be representing athletes, though he had to admit that sometimes there wasn't much difference. He was only an intern, not yet an agent, and he had already been privy to quite a few diva tantrums.

"Okay," Dave said, putting an arm around Blaine and leading him out of the store, the busty clerk huffing behind them, "you need to listen to me for just a moment, okay?"

Blaine nodded. "Okay."

Dave walked Blaine through the door, past more gawking fans and photographers, down the sidewalk to where Blaine's sports car was parked.

"I think you're right," Dave said slowly. "I think the perfect ring for Kurt _doesn't_ exist…"

Blaine stopped walking, turning on Dave with a look of complete betrayal. Dave held up a hand to silence him before he could cry or scream again.

"…yet, Anderson. The perfect ring doesn't exist _yet_."

"So, what are you saying, Karofsky?" Blaine said, mocking Dave's usage of his last name.

"I'm saying…" Dave continued, nonplussed by his stressed out friend's reaction, "that you're a creative man. Design one yourself."

Blaine stared at Dave like Dave had suggested the most ludicrous plan ever devised.

"I _write songs_ , Dave," Blaine said, sounding far beyond distraught. "I don't _design rings_."

"Why not?" Dave asked with a shrug, recalling the jacket he himself had tried to design for Kurt a while back, when they first started living together with the kids and Kurt had to sell off his designer suits. It was heartbreaking, but it couldn't be helped. It was either his suits or the rent. Designing that jacket was going to be Dave's grand gesture, to show Kurt how much he cared about him, how much he'd changed. But it turned out to be harder than Dave thought. He never finished. He shoved it under his side of the bed and promptly forgot about it until Eva went snooping around and found it. Kurt thought _she_ had designed it (yes, it was _that_ rough). Kurt smiled his genuine, non-condescending smile for her, and told her it showed real promise. Dave wished he'd had the courage to show it to Kurt himself, always wondering if his reaction would have been the same. Knowing Kurt, it would have been. "And if you think you need help, well, you surround yourself with creative types every day. Get one of them to lend you a hand."

Blaine quietly considered Dave's suggestion, still with an expression of, "You're insane!" in his eyes, then all at once his face lit up.

"Dave!" Blaine exclaimed with surprise and relief. "That's…that's an _amazing_ idea!" Then his brows shot up higher, disappearing in the curls cascading over his forehead. "And I know _exactly_ who I'm going to go to first for help."

Blaine giggled maniacally as he unlocked the car doors, stopping a second to pose for one last ridiculous paparazzi photograph while Dave fought for the thirtieth time to squeeze himself inside the cramped car, wondering, as he did so many times, what would his life be like without the excitement of Blaine Anderson.


	52. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, this chapter is written using several different styles. As POV switches between Kurt and Blaine, and then Eva, you'll see the writing become a little choppy, a little run-on. I have mentioned before that the character of Eva is based off my own autistic daughter, and I tried to recreate the way she talks and behaves in the way I wrote Eva's thoughts and actions. I hope that all makes sense. As for wrapping up this fic, it, sadly, has about two chapters left. The next chapter will be rather long, and then the last chapter fast forwards a few months ahead. But since I can't say goodbye to it, this story will live on in one-shots indefinitely, which can be found on here titled 'Take Me Over Drabbles Inspired Klaine Advent Drabbles', and there's another ficlet that will be coming out based on this story. I hope to have the main story wrapped up by August. I have to say, I'm sincerely sad to see it end, but its time has come. To all of you who have supported it for the last two years, I love you all <3

Kurt flipped through the pages of his latest issue of _Vogue_ , exuding the illusion of calm that being a well-practiced Dom afforded him, but betrayed, unfortunately, by the rapid tapping of his toe on the faux-wood waiting room floor. Blaine peeked over at Kurt – his beautiful lover, his uncharacteristically frazzled Dom – and smiled. He put his hand on Kurt’s knee, massaging gently, which, though comforting, did nothing to stop the tapping of Kurt’s foot.

“It’ll be alright,” Blaine reassured him, leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Kurt turned the page of his magazine and huffed. “What do you mean? I know it’ll be alright. Everything’s alright. I’m fine. It’s all fine. Everything’s fine. Yup.” The words tumbled from his mouth with each hard consonant snapping on his tongue like firecrackers. He turned the next page without reading the first and sighed again. Blaine raised a brow, but Kurt didn’t see, focused on nothing, his eyes sweeping over the pictures on the page but entirely occupied with the thoughts in his head.

Kurt definitely was _not_ fine.

Blaine shook his head and leaned over toward the young lady sitting on his opposite side. With one hand on Kurt’s knee, Blaine reached out the other and took Eva’s hand in his, watching her fidget uncomfortably in her wheelchair.

“You would think _he_ was having a cast removed,” Blaine whispered in her ear. The little girl giggled, kicking her feet and rocking back and forth, keeping her eyes locked on their hands. She was scared. Blaine could feel it in her grip, saw it in the way she swayed to comfort herself – something she hadn’t really needed to do in a while. “We’re almost there, kiddo. Quick and painless, remember? Are you ready?”

Eva nodded her head, trying to look brave with tears pooling in her eyes, each nod becoming longer as she snapped her head harder.

“Quick and painless,” she repeated, gnawing on her lower lip till it was chapped. “Hunter promised.”

“That’s right,” Blaine said. “So if it isn’t, who do we blame?”

“Hunter!” Eva cheered, laughing in that chaotically cute way that made most people stare, but which Blaine loved. Earning a laugh from Eva had become like winning an Emmy to him. Blaine loved Eva. He loved everything about her – her eclectic fashion sense (today’s outfit, for example, expertly mixed pastel polka dots and neon stripes with floral leggings, but she somehow managed to pull it off), her coloring using only two crayons – _Blackest Night_ and _Purple Mountains Majesty_ , her repetitive singing (usually soundtracks from the Barbie movies that Barbra watched on constant loop and, of course, anything that Blaine performed on _Sing_ ), her high-pitched cackle, and all the rest. Too much to name; so much to love.

They were having her cast removed – finally. Blaine found it hard to remember what she looked like without the pink-covered plaster appendage. But this was not the first time they had scheduled it, and they were not at her regular doctor’s office. Actually, they made this appointment, and then had to change it last minute, which didn’t give Kurt adequate time to prepare Eva, and that was usually the recipe for an episode.

A hiccup. They’d hit a hiccup – a change in their schedule - but it didn’t seem to bother Eva, at least not as much as things like alterations to her carefully maintained routine used to. The girl who, once upon a time, would have had a level twelve meltdown over this kind of change, who would have bawled at the top of her lungs and needed constant comforting, was slowly growing, slowly evolving, learning how to work within the confines of her triggers every day. It had started after the move, which Eva had managed with flying colors thanks to the help of her brother and sisters, doting new friends, and Blaine. Her best friend, Blaine. They worked daily to make Eva comfortable with these new surroundings. She learned a lot about her home from trips to (what would be) her school, and to the rec center where Hunter took her to do her therapy. Spending time around people who weren’t her family but who understood her struggle enforced within her a valuable lesson.

It didn’t necessarily matter who she was, what she did, or what difficulties she had, but the fact that she was trying her best every day – that’s all anyone cared about.

And the fact that she knew some people who had lots of money and were on TV didn’t hurt either. Even when she babbled in that way that she did (that had become a lot less like babbling now that Hunter had taught her those funny riddles and songs that gave her words), when she mentioned the name Blaine Anderson (which she did a lot because he was her absolute best friend in the world) people stopped and listened.

Eva discovered that she liked words. Words were good. They got her things that she needed, and whenever she learned a new one, everyone around her cheered like it was Christmas, and her Uncle Kurt made her favorite buckwheat and blueberry waffles – even for dinner. She also liked her words because they helped her express her feelings, which sometimes got so bunched up inside her that they fought to break free, scraping against each other until her brain echoed with them and her head hurt. But now they were more under her control, and they didn’t make her quite so frustrated. The only words she had problems with were the ones that Uncle Kurt and Uncle Dave and Hunter and her best friend Blaine tried to teach her about a man and a woman that she used to know. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but talking about them made her happy and sad all at once. She didn’t really remember them, not the way she remembered her favorite book or show or song. They weren’t tangible things in her mind. She remembered them with her heart. They were caught up in sounds and smells, like lilacs and Ivory soap, and things that they did, like singing and football and playing the piano.

The man looked like her brother, and the woman was beautiful. Together they reminded her of a place she used to call home. But Eva could only think about them for a few minutes at a time before she had to walk away and wrap her arms around herself, which was about the same time that Blaine would decide he wanted to play Crazy Eights, and then they would go sit on the floor in her room and do that for a few hours.

But this was the third time they were having her cast taken off, and they had hit a bump. The first time, Eva didn’t like the saw. It made a loud whirring noise that frightened her. It sounded like the chainsaw that the gardeners used on the dead oak in their back yard. She had watched them cut it down, seen how it ate through the bark of the tree, chewing it up and spitting pieces of it all over the lawn.

If a saw could do that to a massive seven foot oak, what would it do to her leg, which was much, much thinner and smaller?

She saw it coming for her, heard it buzz through her noise dampening headphones, and she panicked. She didn’t want her leg eaten by a saw. She screamed and struggled and fought until the doctor turned the saw off, and Blaine picked her up and carried her away.

A setback, yes, especially considering how long it took to get this appointment, but it turned out to be an unexpected blessing. When the doctor X-rayed Eva’s leg to make sure she didn’t injure herself in the struggle, he found a fingerling fracture that looked about a month old, caused randomly by the original set of the bones in her leg. They needed to leave the cast on a little longer.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. All’s well that ended well.

After that, Hunter brought a small cast saw to the house, and bit by bit they got Eva accustomed to it. Every member of the family, including Nick and Jeff, had a fake cast put on and then cut off of them – twice. Even Adam. They showed Eva how the saw cut through plaster and that it wouldn’t hurt her. She was closer to okay, but she wasn’t entirely convinced, and Hunter promised that if she got hurt in any way, he would make it up to her.

They put aside time to talk about the procedure every day. Eva became more at ease with the idea of having her cast removed, and as the days drew close, excited about the prospect of running in the backyard, pushing herself on the swing, and jumping off it while it was still in the air. It would be the most freedom Eva had in a long time. The way she talked, Kurt was sure she’d be back in a cast within a few days.

But the second time they went to the doctor’s office, Eva’s favorite orthopedist was called in to emergency surgery, and Eva wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch her, so they had to reschedule.

It was all par for the course, but when Kurt found out that the next available appointment wasn’t until over a month, he rallied to get Eva sent to a participating provider’s office. Which she was, but the nurse at their regular office warned Kurt that the other office’s policies were a little different in some regards - unnecessarily stringent, in Kurt’s opinion - and that required some creative planning.

“Eva?” the nurse behind the counter – a woman with a bottle-blonde bob and an impressive faux tan, wearing crisp violet scrubs and an expression way too cross for her young years - called out to the room, even though Kurt, Blaine, and Eva were the only ones there. “Eva Hudson?”

“Here,” Blaine answered. The nurse gave Blaine a queer look. “I mean, she’s here. I’m not Eva. This little girl is Eva.” Blaine stood as he rambled and rolled Eva’s wheelchair up to the nurse’s counter, with Kurt following behind.

“And _who_ are _you_?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Blaine Anderson,” he answered smoothly and with a cocky smile, which he did when people didn’t recognize him right away. It was most likely part of a knee-jerk reaction from back when he was kind of an asshole. He probably didn’t even realize he did it. Kurt found it hilarious. He was dying to point it out to Blaine, but he didn’t want to make his sub self-conscious.

“He’s a friend of the family,” Kurt clarified.

The nurse shook her head and looked back down at Eva’s chart. “Family only.”

Kurt sighed. He had hoped for the best, but after the other nurse’s warning, he had a feeling this would happen. “But she won’t go anywhere without him.”

“Sorry,” the nurse said with a barely there shrug, handing Kurt a clipboard with paperwork for him to fill out. “Those are the rules.”

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a glance, and Kurt started in on the paperwork.

“You know,” Blaine said, leaning with one arm casually against the counter, “I can’t help but noticing the sign on the door. The one that says no animals allowed unless they’re service animals.”

“That’s right,” the nurse said, looking up at him with a tight grin, as if Blaine hadn’t gotten the memo that the conversation part of their encounter was over for now.

“So, if Eva had a certified service animal or comfort animal, it would be able to go in with her?”

The tight grin became tighter, and the nurse started to look confused. She knew Blaine was trying to get around the rules, she just couldn’t figure out how.

“Of course,” she answered. “A trained service animal would be able to accompany her.”

“Well good,” Blaine said, standing up straight, looking absurdly proud, “because _I’m_ her service animal.”

“What?” she said, any trace of good humor lost in her expression.

“I am a certified comfort person.”

The nurse sighed. Kurt, filling out the paperwork beside his sub, could hear the eye roll in it.

“There’s no such…”

The woman’s voice petered off as Blaine reached into Eva’s backpack hanging from her wheelchair and produced a blue vest. He slipped it on over his Marc Jacobs polo. Kurt kept his eyes glued to the paperwork in his hands. If he looked at Blaine in his blue vest again, he would burst out laughing and ruin Blaine’s argument. Blaine pulled the ends of the vest together. It looked a bit like a Girl Scout vest, covered in brightly colored patches, each one denoting a different training course he had taken, much in the same way dogs and cats and other animals do, that proclaimed him absolutely and without a doubt Eva’s “Service Person”.

And while Blaine beamed with ridiculous pride over his service vest, Kurt handed the nurse – Cyndi, according to the name tag attached to the lanyard hanging around her neck - a note from Hunter. The nursed snatched the square of paper from Kurt’s hand, not too kindly, and unfolded it.

“You know, I don’t _mean_ to be _rude_ , but you rich guys always think that the rules don’t apply to you,” Cyndi snapped.

“Oh, I’m not rich,” Kurt said, not at all concerned by the condescension layered thick in his voice. “ _He’s_ the rich one.”

“You know, you’re pretty rich now, too, sweetheart,” Blaine said, blowing Kurt a kiss in the air.

“I know _exactly_ who the both of you are,” the nurse said, “and I’m sorry, but…” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the note in her hands. “Hunter?” she questioned, reading it several times over, scrutinizing every word. “Hunter Clarington? H-he practices here? In Los Angeles?”

“That he does,” Kurt said, flipping through the sheaf of papers burdening the clipboard clip to be sure he filled in every helpfully highlighted space and initialed every page.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know that,” she said, her voice dropping in temper and volume. Kurt handed her the clipboard, but the nurse didn’t take it, too fixated on the note – specifically, on the signature. Kurt gave up and left the clipboard on the counter in front of her. He caught Blaine’s eyes, furrowing his brow, and Blaine shrugged. If Hunter knew this woman, he never brought her up. In fact, regardless of Hunter’s reaction when Kurt first met the man, he was beginning to think that Hunter wasn’t interested in anyone, regardless of gender.

“Yup,” Blaine said, giving Kurt a significant look, “and Eva here is one of his two favorite patients.” Blaine put a hand on Eva’s shoulder to add emphasis to the point. _This one. This girl here. The one you’re kind of being a jerk to. That’s right. Hunter’s fave, you bitter, bitter, not nice woman._

“Wh-who’s the other?” she asked, as if the answer might clue her in to what Hunter’s been doing with his life since last they saw each other, whenever that was, and under whatever circumstances. Kurt could only guess, but he had every intention of grilling Hunter later over some Chesapeake Bay crab cakes (which turned out to be his Achilles’ heel, the way Nutella crepes and salted caramel and double fudge cupcakes were Nick’s).

“That would be my other daughter,” Kurt said with a superior grin. “Barbra.”

Blaine leaned over the counter and winked at the woman.

“Kind of makes you want to rethink this whole _family only_ thing, doesn’t it?” he said, and Kurt was shocked by how conniving his sub made it sound. It actually struck Kurt as kind of hot. “This way we might be willing to put in a good word for you.”

“Um…” The woman sat with her mouth open, the note crumpling in her hands, unsure of what she should do, when from the office door behind her a face peeked out – an older man with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing dark rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, and a smile that crinkled his face all the way up to his sky blue eyes.

“Is there an Eva out here? Eva Hudson?” he asked, his eyes quickly finding the girl in the wheelchair. Eva leaned in to Blaine’s arm, but she didn’t hide. She had stopped hiding in front of strangers, but she still needed her best friend for support.

“That would be us,” Kurt said, knocking his fist against the counter to bring the nurse out of her stupor. “We’re all coming in. Is that alright?”

“Sure, sure,” the man said, opening the door wide for Blaine to roll Eva through. “The more the merrier.”

The nurse’s mouth clamped shut, but she didn’t object as the three of them strolled by the counter and into the back office.

“Snazzy vest,” the man commented as Blaine walked in with Eva. “Service Person. Very cool. I wish more of our caretakers had those.”

“Why, thank you,” Blaine said, throwing a haughty look over his shoulder at the nurse before Kurt walked in and the door closed behind him.

“I’m Dr. Arnold,” the man said, sticking out his hand for Kurt and Blaine to shake, and then offering it to Eva for her approval. She looked at his hand, then up at him, then grabbed his hand in hers and shook it. He made a face and uttered a playful _oof!_

“You’ve got one heck of a grip there, little lady,” he said, shaking out his hand when she let it go.

“My name Eva,” she announced primly. “Not little lady.”

“My mistake,” the doctor said, “ _Eva_. So, we’re here to have that cast taken off?”

“Yup,” Kurt said. “Finally.”

The doctor laughed, taking in the faces of the two men who looked more than eager to have their precocious girl free of her wheelchair.

“This way.” He walked through the office, out another door, and into a hallway, and the three of them followed.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Kurt started, “since you don’t seem to be bothered by all of us coming back here, what’s up with your nurse out front?”

The doctor put a hand to his forehead and groaned under his breath. “That’s Cyndi,” he said in the apologetic way people talk about older relatives so set in their beliefs it’s generally understood that their overwhelming and often times inappropriate flaws are simply better off excused. “Did she give you any grief? I’m sorry about that.”

“A bit,” Kurt admitted. “Dr. Arnold, as an advocate, I have to say that I really don’t agree with this policy of ‘family only’ regarding patients like Eva, who tend to rely on specific people, family or no, significantly for comfort.”

“Yeah, you know, I’m kind of a new physician here,” Dr. Arnold explained, “taking over for the doctor that retired, and the ‘family only’ thing was a policy _she_ had. But I’m like you. I personally don’t agree with it, so I don’t endorse. And it’s not written in the office’s charter, so I’ve told Cyndi to ease up, but I’ll make sure that it’s addressed in more detail. We’re here to take care of our patients, not abide by outdated rules.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said, feeling much more at ease. He’s not sure they’ll personally ever have to come back here again, but it was nice to know that another child like Eva wouldn’t be subjected to the same treatment.

The doctor led them through a set of double doors, and Kurt held one open so that Blaine could roll Eva through without the door hitting her legs.

“How did you guys slip past her anyway?” Dr. Arnold patted a long, white table, and Blaine pulled Eva’s wheelchair up next to it. Eva wrapped her thin arms around Blaine’s neck and he lifted her out. He set her down gently, talking softly in her ear, and she smiled, threading her fingers in his curls and humming in response. All the while, Kurt watched the two of them, so close to one another, so happy in each other’s company. Their friendship seemed so effortless, so natural, right from the start.

Kurt and Blaine might consider each other soulmates, but in a way, so were they.

Kurt really hoped with all his heart that Finn and Rachel could see them, too.

“What do you mean?” Kurt asked offhandedly, vaguely remembering that the doctor had asked him a question.

“Well, that’s the first time she didn’t complain when I’ve let non-family members back here, so I’m just curious what you guys said to keep her quiet.”

“Hunter Clarington,” Kurt answered, tearing his eyes away from Blaine and Eva and jumping back into the flow of conversation. “One of my daughter’s therapists. He wrote a note explaining that Eva doesn’t go anywhere without Blaine, but…I don’t know. She seemed to know him, maybe?”

Dr. Arnold chuckled as he started examining the cast on Eva’s leg. Kurt saw Eva tense, her arms wound tightly around Blaine’s neck. Blaine smiled, stooped over uncomfortably to keep himself in her grasp, cooing to her as she steadily wrung his neck.

“Ah… _The_ Hunter Clarington,” Dr. Arnold said with a profound nod and a curious grin. “So the mystery man _does_ exist.”

Kurt looked at Blaine with an eyebrow raised and an, “ _oh yeah, he is so getting grilled”_ look on his face, and Blaine snorted a laugh.

“Yup,” Blaine said. “He’s been a friend of mine for years, but we’ve kind of adopted him as part of our family. Haven’t we, Eva?”

Kurt and Dr. Arnold continued the conversation, their voices fading into the background, because Eva’s sole focus became Blaine and the word he just said.

“Family?” Eva mumbled around the thumb she had stuck in her mouth for comfort. “Blaine and Eva are family?”

Blaine brushed the hair away from Eva’s eyes, running his fingers carefully through a few sausage curls.

“You will _always_ be my family, Eva,” Blaine said, placing a kiss on the girl’s forehead, and another in the silky mass of curls on the crown of her head. “But there’s something I would like to do to make it official,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Would you like to help me?”

Before Eva could answer, the doctor interrupted.

“Okay,” Dr. Arnold said, smiling reassuringly at Eva, “I’m going to get started. You’re going to hear a lot of buzzing, and there may be some tickling, but I promise you’re going to be okay.”

“Okay?” Blaine reiterated, and Eva nodded.

“Okay,” she said, beaming up at Blaine as if the doctor didn’t even exist, as if no one else in the room existed.

“Here,” Blaine said, handing her the black noise cancelling headset from out of her backpack, the ones Uncle Kurt let her put her Hello Kitty stickers on. Eva fumbled with the oversized headset in her hands and quickly slipped it over her ears. Her eyes glowed up at Blaine and she giggled, her gaze only on him. And as long as she looked at him and thought of that word _family_ , as long as she had this concept bouncing around her head with this image of Blaine to add to it, the noise from the cast saw didn’t bother her much at all.

***

Eva came away from her trip to the doctors with a sugar-free lollipop, an Eric Carle coloring book, and a brand new leg. That’s how she saw it. The skin under the cast was lighter in color than her other leg, and it looked a little thinner. Blaine told her that she needed to eat a ton of buckwheat and blueberry waffles, drink as much water as she could, and run around on it to get it all nice and plump. She liked that plan. She liked it a lot, and couldn’t wait to get home and set it in motion.

Sitting in the back seat of Kurt’s car, Blaine held Eva close and filled her in on his secret plan, detailing how she could help. It was dubbed their ‘Secret Squirrel Mission’, and her participation in it came with a brand new sketch pad and charcoal pencils, specially made for ‘Secret Squirrel’ work. From that day on, Eva carried the sketch pad everywhere, with two of the pencils wedged into the binding, and was very protective of them. This mission of Blaine’s was of the utmost importance to her, and she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. Whenever she carried her ‘Secret Squirrel’ tools through rooms of people, she tiptoed so as not to draw attention to herself, and covered her sketch pad rather conspicuously with her body so that Kurt realized immediately that Eva was keeping a secret.

Kurt didn’t like secrets. They usually never led to anything good. And in the case of the children, secrets (for the time being) were forbidden in their house. Kurt knew there were times when the kids needed their privacy, when they needed to have lives he knew little or nothing about, but the look on Eva’s face as she snuck through the living room had him concerned. Her attention seemed to be completely taken by something, and Kurt suspected it revolved around that pad she hadn’t put down for over a week. A lot had happened for her in that week since her cast was removed. Kurt couldn’t pinpoint any one thing that would be more important to her than another.

She was close to the entrance to her room, nearly at the shut door, when Kurt decided there was no time like the present to put an end to this mystery.

“Eva, sweetie,” Kurt said, putting down his newspaper and getting up from the couch. “Can I talk to you a second?”

Eva looked up at Kurt with an adorable but seemingly frightened, wide-eyed expression, and his heart sank. _It must be worse than he thought. She thinks she’s going to get in trouble._

“Maybe…” she said, drawing the word out as she tried to think of an objection, a way to get away, or how to maybe hide her sketch pad first so that it didn’t get into the wrong hands.

“You’re not in any trouble,” Kurt prefaced, trying to soothe the skittish girl’s fears, but it seemed to have no effect, no change in her demeanor. “I’m just curious what’s in that sketch pad you keep carrying around.”

Kurt paused, giving Eva a chance to respond, which she did, in the form of a heavy swallow and a step back towards the wall.

“Stuff…” she said, her mind searching for a better response to Kurt’s questions. She knew there’d only be more of them. Adults never seem satisfied with short, to-the-point answers.

“Well, is it stuff that you’d be willing to show me?” Kurt asked carefully, trying not to frighten her too much more than she already looked. He didn’t want to frighten her at all. But she had started going to a full-day recreational program a few days a week, something that she had never done before, and if something was going on – if someone was bullying her, or if the kids were teasing her, or if one of the teachers was being mean to her - then Kurt needed to know right away. He needed to run down there and take care of it.

He needed to protect his Eva.

Eva didn’t vocalize an answer, shaking her head furiously back and forth until her curls broke free of the new sparkly hair clips Blaine bought her and bounced in her face.

“Eva,” Kurt said. He reached out a hand to touch her arm, but then pulled it away. He could tell by her rigid shoulders, and by the way she bit her lip and scrunched up her face, that this was not a good time for touching. “We talked about keeping secrets before. Do you remember that?”

Eva stopped shaking her head and nodded once.

“Remember what we talked about after the last secret you kept?”

Eva nodded again. Her last secret had to do with her dislike of lima beans. That, however, wasn’t the secret. The secret was that she was afraid of what Kurt would say if he found out she wasn’t eating them, so she hid them in her pockets and, after dinner, stowed them in the toy chest in her room, beneath her board books and a broken Etch-A-Sketch. No one would have known they were under there except the air conditioning in her room broke for a couple of days, and while she was bunking with Elphaba, Eva’s room started to stink something fierce. Kurt had to tear apart the room to hunt down the source of the foul stench. By the reek, he was certain something had holed up in her room and died.

By the time Kurt found the concealed beans, it was about as bad. They had become a science project – a horrid grey-green white-speckled mess sprouting tiny protrusions that looked suspiciously like mushrooms. Finn took a picture and posted it on his Facebook page. He said it was the coolest thing his little sister had ever done.

Eva took that as a compliment.

But her sketch pad had nothing to do with nasty old lima beans. Her sketch pad was super important, and Kurt wasn’t allowed to see it, or he’d know about the _surprise_.

Blaine’s surprise.

Eva held the pad tighter until it started to bend in the middle.

“Eva…” Kurt said, and hearing her name spoken sternly, she looked as though she might cry. Kurt didn’t want to make her cry. He hated when Eva cried. But secrets for a girl with limited verbal skills could be dangerous. What if there was something in that book that Kurt needed to know? Or was he just blowing things out of proportion? God, if there was only a book that had all the answers!

He scoffed at his own sense of irony.

“Eva,” Kurt said in a slightly more commanding voice, “I need to know…”

“So how long do you think you guys are going to be gone?” Dave asked in a low voice, walking close beside Blaine, knowing Kurt had to be in the living room somewhere.

“Probably no more than a few days. A week, tops,” Blaine answered. “Will that be alright? Nick and Jeff offered to babysit whenever you need…”

The two men walked in and first thing, Blaine spotted Kurt talking with Eva. He didn’t think anything of it until he heard his lover use that Dom voice that made his spine tingle, and saw Eva with her arms wrapped around her torso, a familiar looking sketch pad clutched to her chest. He put two and two together and knew he had to intervene.

“Hold up,” he said, putting a hand up for Dave to pause their conversation and rushed over. “Wait!” he called out, leaping over the sofa to get to the two before it was too late. “Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Blaine stepped between the mildly distressed girl and her concerned uncle. “What’s going on here?”

Kurt jerked back at Blaine’s demanding tone. Normally he loved it, the take charge side of Blaine, but worry had Kurt pinned down so hard he couldn’t appreciate it.

“Well,” he said, addressing Blaine with a shrewd eye on Eva, “I noticed Eva with this sketch pad she seems _exceptionally_ protective of, and considering our last conversation regarding secrets, I think that I should take a look…”

“No!” Blaine cut in, eyes wide, his anxious expression a match for Eva’s. “No, it’s okay. I know what this is about, and there are no secrets in that sketch pad that you need to see.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, both shooting up when he heard Dave behind him, stifling a laugh. Whatever this was, Kurt realized, _everyone_ seemed to be in on it.

“Really?” Kurt said - a sarcastic comment, not a question.

“Yes, really,” Blaine replied, smiling too brightly, showing too many teeth, knowing he was in for it. “In fact, she’s working for me. Doing a little project. And it is a secret, but between me and her, and I can tell you that it’s all good. Nothing to worry about.”

Kurt crossed his arms, finding the humor in a grown man employing the aid of a little girl to carry out his covert plans.

“All good?” Kurt asked. “Are you _sure_?”

“Yup. I’m sure.” Blaine peeked back at Eva and winked, and Eva smiled, but she ducked out of view when she saw her uncle walking toward them. Kurt stepped forward into Blaine’s space, running a single finger beneath his collar in a sensual, though subtly dangerous way, and Blaine made a shooing motion behind him with his hands.

“Go, Eva,” he whispered dramatically, motioning the giggling girl to run away. “Hurry! While you still can!”

Eva scuttled along the wall with the bent sketch pad pressed to her chest, laughing all the way to her room, and shut the door. Kurt heard the sound of another door shutting, faintly, and he knew that Dave had gone to his room and left them alone.

“You better be right about this, Anderson,” Kurt whispered, gathering Blaine’s collar tight in one hand, twisting it a bit at the hollow of his neck.

“Trust me,” Blaine said, eyes lowering in submission, luring his black swan out from hiding. Kurt tightened his grip, eager to take the bait, but then Kurt’s smile turned sad and his hold on Blaine’s collar loosened.

“I do,” he said. “I just…” He sighed. “She’s growing up. She’s her own person. Soon, she won’t need me anymore.” He didn’t want to mention that these milestones with the kids, as wonderful as they were, tore Kurt to pieces. The more self-reliant the kids became, the closer they were to leaving him, and it felt like losing Finn and Rachel all over again. Kurt fell forward against Blaine’s body, and Blaine raised his arms up along Kurt’s sides, wrapping them around Kurt’s back to hold him.

Blaine didn’t want to admit it because he’d only been a part of the Hudson-Hummel-Karofsky family for a short while, but he was beginning to see Eva blossoming…and he felt that way, too.

“She’ll always need you, Kurt,” he said, rocking his Dom from side to side, saying what he knew was true and what Kurt needed to hear. “Everyone in this house does.”

“Yeah?” Kurt sniffed, resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder, letting Blaine move him, following where his sub led instead of the other way around.

“Yeah,” Blaine said. “Eva needs you and Finn needs you. Barbra and Elphie, they’re going to need you for a long time still. Dave needs you…”

“Why would Dave need me?” Kurt laughed, amused by the notion of big bear Dave Karofsky _needing_ him – at least, any more. They weren’t struggling, they weren’t scrounging to pay the bills or buy food, they weren’t deciding between replacing the refrigerator or getting the car fixed, all things that Kurt’s calm head always seemed better at negotiating than Dave’s notoriously short fuse. But Dave grew into a man who could handle those things on his own and more. Plus, he was pursuing his dream, and he’d found love. What else could Kurt possibly contribute to Dave’s life?

“Because he loves you, Kurt,” Blaine said. “I know he has Adam, but he still loves _you_. And when people love you, they need you in their lives. Like me. _I_ need you.” Blaine took Kurt’s hand in his – his left hand – weaving their fingers together and holding on, like this was the point that connected them, that no one could pull apart. “In fact, I need you now…if you don’t mind...”

Blaine asked, and Kurt answered. Blaine led, and Kurt followed. As Kurt and Blaine retreated to their room, to _play hide and seek_ (as Barbra had explained to Eva once when Eva mentioned that Kurt and Blaine slept a lot), Eva hid under the pale blue Laura Ashley comforter on her bed. She held tight to the pad Blaine gave her, the pad of sketches she worked so hard on and never let out of her sight, because inside its covers, on its pages, it held the future of her happy family.

 

 


	53. Someone to Tell My Secrets to (aka The Life of Brian)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Klaine Advent Challenge prompt "whisper". Rated G. (You may have read this already in the collection of drabbles I have online here, but there's a very important reason why this chapter now shows up here. It has something to do with what's coming up <3)

Eva walked with Kurt and Blaine through the swinging double doors of the shelter. Eva clung to Blaine’s hand. She wore large, black, noise canceling headphones to block out the noise of dogs barking and cage doors crashing together. Eva pressed her body as close to Blaine’s leg as she could, until he almost couldn’t walk comfortably. He looked down at her head of dark curls and smiled. He raised his eyes to see Kurt raising his eyes as well, giving Blaine a sympathetic look.

Blaine ran a hand through Eva’s dark hair. She looked up at him with a weak half-smile, a little weary of being in this large building with the many cages and the fidgeting, fussing animals.

Eva had just started school and the first week seemed to go by just fine. But then she seemed to withdraw. She still talked to Blaine, but took to talking with him secretly, staying close to his side and whispering in his ear. Hunter suggested that she might not be dealing with the change very well – new environment, new schedule, new people, new sounds, new smells. She hadn’t developed any new triggers, but she had become quiet and easily frustrated, sometimes to the point of tears. In a way, the new silent Eva was a bit more off-putting than full-out tantrum Eva, whom thankfully they really only saw once in a blue moon.

Hunter had suggested getting her a cat. A cat would offer her companionship, something that could help soothe and comfort her through the rough patches in her day.

Hunter had called ahead to the shelter, talking with an administrator who dealt with therapy animals. He told her that Kurt and Blaine would be coming, and bringing Eva to find a new friend.

An older woman with slightly graying hair and a genuine smile approached. Blaine felt Eva tighten around his leg, and Blaine reacted, putting up a hand to keep the woman from coming too close.

“If you don’t mind,” Blaine said, smiling warmly. The woman’s confused eyes flicked down at the girl hiding between Blaine’s legs, wearing large headphones and squeezing her eyes shut, and she understood.

“Mr. Anderson,” the woman said. She turned to Kurt and nodded. “Mr. Hummel. Welcome. My name is Lydia. We have a room all set up for you in the therapy wing.”

She led the way through another set of double doors, and a hallway that was much more quiet, much more peaceful. She told them about their program, and the animals they screen and deem eligible for adoption specifically as therapy animals. Blaine absorbed every word, talking excitedly about the program, while simultaneously limping along with little Eva still firmly attached. Kurt pulled up the rear, feeling almost forgotten, but smiling as he watched the interaction.

She led them to a conference room at the far end of the hallway, away from the sounds of people, animals, and metal cages. The rough carpet beneath their feet absorbed the sound of their footsteps as they walked across it. Kurt wondered how they would pick the perfect cat for Eva exactly. Would they need to fill out a personality profile, or take some sort of test?

The process, to Kurt’s surprise, was much simpler than that. Cat after cat was brought into the room – one at a time with a minute or two in between so that Eva could become comfortable with the influx of animals. After the last cat was brought in, fifteen cats total milled about the open space, and the three adults watched to see how Eva would react. For a while, Eva sat in the far corner of the room, not anxiously, but curiously. A few cats approached her, and she would eye them with a mixture of concern and interest, but then they would turn and go on their merry way.

After a while, the cats stopped finding Eva interesting, and she didn't seem all too interested in the cats, either. At one point, Lydia put out a small arrangement of toys for Eva to use to try and entice the cats to play, but Eva just looked at them, and then looked away.

Kurt leaned against Blaine and sighed. He didn’t want to give up hope, but it didn’t seem like a cat was the answer to their prayers.

“I don’t understand,” Lydia said, watching the scene play out, mouth agape. “Not one of them seems to be attuned to her mood, and she’s giving off some pretty blaring signs.”

Kurt wasn’t exactly sure how this ‘cat magic’ was supposed to work, so he simply nodded sadly in agreement.

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand as he watched the mob of cats ignoring his little girl, and Eva, still with her headset on, staring at the ceiling.

The woman who helped bring the cats in walked through the double doors, burdened with one more cat.

“I’m sorry, Lydia,” she said, walking straight to the older woman, cat in tow. “He got out again.”

Lydia looked at the striped cat and sighed.

“What are we going to do with you?” she cooed to the cat, who struggled to be free. He twisted impossibly from his handler’s grasp, and plopped to the floor, scurrying away to join the throng.

Kurt turned to Lydia.

“I think maybe we should take Eva and…”

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand and pointed to the far corner of the room, where the new cat stalked little Eva curiously. Eva turned her head and looked once…then she looked twice…then she looked around to see who the cat might be walking up to. She stepped back a little ways when she realized the cat was coming up to her, but then the tiny beast wrapped itself around her ankles, walking through her legs and over her feet, rubbing its smooth body against her. Kurt and Blaine, and maybe even Lydia, held their collective breaths and waited. Eva touched the cat experimentally on the top of the head, between his ears. He closed his green eyes and purred. Eva giggled. She sat on the floor and placed the cat in her lap. She hugged the animal to her and sighed. The cat didn’t struggle, made no move to leave, and the collective breath held in the room by all relaxed into a happy sigh. Kurt and Blaine gave Eva a moment with the cat, just to make sure this wasn’t a fluke, before approaching little Eva and her friend.

Blaine sat beside Eva and took off her headset, the small girl’s face beaming from ear to ear.

“Eva’s cat,” she said, hugging the cat and burying her nose into its fur. Kurt cringed for a moment, thinking the cat might bolt or try to scratch, but he was content to sit in her arms and be molested.

“I think maybe he is,” Blaine said, putting a comforting hand on her knee. “Now you have someone else you can tell all your secrets to.”

Eva nodded proudly, cuddling the cat close.

“That’s a beautiful cat,” Kurt said calmly, eying the marbled brown cat in Eva’s arms. “What do you think his name is?”

Eva leaned close to the cat’s ear, whispering to it quietly. Then she turned her head and put her ear up to the cat’s mouth, as if listening to the answer.

“Brian,” Eva said, addressing Kurt out loud for the first time in days. “He says his name is Brian.”


	54. Relinquished Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Blaine and Jeff work late, Kurt and Nick are in Kurt's studio doing Jell-O shots and discussing "serious issues". But when Blaine returns, Kurt tells Blaine to make love to him, leaving Blaine to make the decision that's in both their best interests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, please don't spear me! I swear to you all that I am still very much hard at work on the final few chapters, but I stuck this one-shot here because this is the scene that is briefly mentioned in Chapter 49, where Kurt and Nick get drunk and start discussing what kind of underwear a Dom would wear. But I'm really proud of this scene for one very important reason - it shows Kurt get into a situation where he makes a slightly irresponsible call, and Blaine takes care of him. That's all I'm going to say for now. Also, I am (partially) rewriting this whole story - not the plot, just the language, and some of the points that I feel are weak writing. Nothing at the heart of this story is changing. I'm just making it tighter. None of it is being taken down, so don't worry about that (if you are worried). It's just being edited. Because I'm AR that way xD I hope you enjoy this <3 Written in part for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt opportunity, and lilinas's Bitchmas prompt 'naughty'. Also, for those of you keeping track, this one-shot comes before "A Shot in the Dark", where Kurt is doing body shots off of Blaine :)

“Okay, okay, okay, we’ve covered whips …

“… chains …”

“… and underwear. So since we’ve answered all of the _serious_ questions, what should we talk about now?” Nick asked, clumsily reaching for the Jell-O shot closest to him. His fingers danced around the tray as he zeroed in on the blurry shot. As soon as his skin brushed plastic, he grabbed it as if it would scurry off. He lifted the little plastic cup of orange gelatin to his lips and sucked it into his mouth like an oyster from The Four Seasons.

Kurt stared wide-eyed, as if amazed by Nick’s Jell-O shot eating prowess, then barked out the word, “Butts.” A pause later, he laughed out loud, rolling on the floor like a giddy kindergartner.

Nick raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his usually more sophisticated mentor, but then burst out laughing, too. In the midst of their guffawing, Nick grabbed another shot, this time purple. He slurped it out of the cup and swallowed it in one go, but the noise he made in the process made Kurt laugh so hard, his entire face went a shade of red to rival the paint on the walls.

“Okay, but whose butts are we gonna be talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt said, catching his breath. He tried to sit up, but the room started to spin, so he decided to shimmy over to Nick and rest his head on his friend’s thigh. “Who do we know who’s got a great ass? I mean, one really worth talking about?”

Nick struggled to think, his brain thick with technicolored fog. “Brad Pitt?”

Kurt made a face. “You know, to be honest, I’ve never really been much of a Brad Pitt fan. I’m more of a Robert Downey, Jr. kind of guy.”

“ _Nicccce_ ,” Nick said, prolonging the consonant with a grin and a nod … but only one since moving his head in any way proved to be a bad idea. “Definitely a nice set of buns there. How about Leonardo DiCaprio?”

Kurt bobbed his head in lukewarm agreement. “I guess so. But I don’t think I’ve seen him from behind lately. What was the last movie he was in where you got a really good shot of his glutes? He can’t just ride his _Romeo and Juliet_ laurels his entire life.”

“You have a point there,” Nick said. “But those were some _fine_ laurels.”

“Yes.” Kurt looked up at his friends with unfocused eyes. “Yes, they were.”

“So, are we looking for, like … Ryan Reynolds?”

“Ah-ha!” Kurt points enthusiastically. “There you go! Now you’re getting it! Hugh Jackman.”

“Oh! Don’t forget Jason Momoa. Phew!” Nick fanned himself, sighing dramatically. “That Justice League Trailer with him as Aquaman had me _wet_.”

“Damn it!” Kurt exclaimed. “Where have I been? He should have been first on the list! Just … you know … right up there.” Kurt motioned with grabby hands, pushing Jason Momoa’s invisible tush up to the top.

“Nu-uh,” Nick said with a far-off look and a loopy grin. “Do you know who should have been _first_ on the list?”

Kurt looked at Nick curiously. “Who?”

“Jeff.”

“Mmm,” Kurt hummed. “And Blaine. But we didn’t want to play home field advantage,” he added to quell the guilt that was killing his buzz. “Need to give other players their shot at bat.”

“Good call,” Nick said, pretty sure that Kurt was mangling his analogies, but he couldn’t care less. “Good call.”

“But _God_ , Blaine’s got the greatest ass,” Kurt remarked, biting his lower lip to keep from openly salivating.

“Yes, he does have a great ass,” Nick agreed. “He’s been working on it his entire life. You are _soooo_ lucky you get to tap that.”

“And your man,” Kurt wedged in. “Not that I’ve been looking, mind you, but he looks like he can do some serious thrusting. He _was_ a dancer.”

“Still is if you ask him nicely,” Nick slurred. “But so’s your man.”

“True.” Kurt grinned bright and goofy picturing the man who slept beside him night after night, thinking about how Goddamned lucky he was. “But yours was like … a _dancer_ dancer. A _professional_ dancer. He lived, ate, and breathed it, didn’t he? Of course, he did. You can tell just by looking at him.”

“Yeah.” The two men fell silent at the same time, staring off into the distance, each with their own image of Blaine or Jeff’s ass playing in their minds. Nick idly reached for another shot, but his hand met with empty space on the tray where several rows of plastic cups used to be. Nick looked at the tray, squinting to count up how many shots were left. When he couldn’t remember which number came after ten, he stopped counting. “Did you want another shot? They’re going fast.”

“No,” Kurt said, waving his offer away, “thank you, but, I don’t wanna get drunk.”

“Kurt,” Nick said, voice strained as he tried not to laugh, “I think you’re already drunk.”

Kurt rolled his head to look at Nick and tut, but laughed when the world swayed left before his eyes. “Yeah! I think you’re right!”

A knock on the door interrupted Kurt and Nick’s giggle fest, but they couldn’t stop. And Kurt didn’t want to. Dave and Adam were watching the kids specifically so Kurt could have this night of stress relief with his best friend while Blaine and Jeff worked late, so he refused to feel guilty for taking advantage of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he got good and properly drunk – probably way before the kids were born, if he ever did. He got to be Mr. Strict and Severe the majority of the time.

He deserved this one night to be stupid and carefree.

The door swung open and a head peeked in, smiling mouth and bright hazel eyes popping open in surprise at the sight of the two men, drunk as skunks, tangled together on the floor.

“Uh … hey guys. How are you doin’?” Blaine opened the door wider to let Jeff in, stifling a snicker when Jeff stopped short in the doorway.

“Hey!” Nick and Kurt cheered from their pile on the floor.

“You’re just in time,” Kurt said, trying to stand up and failing incredibly. “There’s a handful of shots left. You guys can catch up.”

“I wish I could,” Jeff said, swooping in to pick up his boyfriend, who didn’t even make an attempt to move, “but I’ve gotta drive.”

“No, you don’t,” Kurt argued, grabbing for Nick’s hand and trying to steal him back as Jeff lifted him into the air. “You guys can sleep in here. We’ve got plenty of room.”

“Jeff’s got an early morning,” Blaine explained, catching Kurt before he hit the floor too hard.

“Party pooper.” Kurt frowned, but he couldn’t keep it up for all of his giggling. “See you guys later.”

“See ya! Thanks for the party,” Nick called, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s neck and surrendering to being carried off like a damsel in a silent movie.

Blaine followed. “Drive safely,” he said, then shut and locked the door behind them.

“Go ahead and have a shot,” Kurt said when Blaine returned. “Nick bought the vodka. It’s apparently _really_ expensive.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Blaine said with an amused shake of his head. He could put it on Nick’s shoulders for being a bad influence, but Blaine only had himself to blame. He’d introduced the two men. How was he supposed to know the effect they’d have on one another? “Tell you what - let’s sleep out here tonight so the kids don’t have to see you wasted. Hmm?”

Kurt chuckled deviously. “That sounds like an _excellent_ idea, _Mr. Anderson_.”

Blaine felt a chill when Kurt called him that, and he knew that Kurt had something other than sleep in mind. He did the same as Jeff, lifting Kurt in his arms bridal style, and carried him off to his futon. Kurt smirked at Blaine, his beautiful and obedient sub. Kurt’s hands rose to Blaine’s shoulders, but instead of looping them around the back of Blaine’s neck, he started unbuttoning his collar.

“Make love to me,” Kurt said, part sounding like a command, which Blaine would normally drop to his knees to obey, but part sounding like a plea, from a man to his lover. Because that was what they’d always been to one another, aside from Dom and sub. Lovers. But regardless of their positions, or who had the authority, they both had a responsibility to one another, and that responsibility mattered most, above all other things.

And for that reason, Blaine said, “I can’t.”

Kurt snickered, his brow wrinkling once he realized Blaine was serious. “What? What do you mean you can’t? Why not?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“We’ve done it drunk before.”

“That was different.”

“How was that different?”

“We got drunk together,” Blaine explained gently, “but we had decided sober that we were going to have sex. You can’t consent if you’re drunk.” Blaine leaned forward to run his nose over Kurt’s. “ _You_ taught me that.”

“Come on, Blaine,” Kurt whined. “I promise it’ll be fine. I know all the safewords.” Kurt tittered, and then he snorted. Blaine was tempted to laugh, but he needed to be serious. He needed to make the Dom side of Kurt’s brain listen. Blaine knew Kurt. Drunk or sober, Blaine knew he’d come around.

“Look, if you want me to have sex with you while you’re drunk and I’m not, we’ll hash out the details _when you’re sober_ , and work from there. We’ll write them out. We’ll make rules. Add them to the contract like we always do. But not until then.”

Kurt went quiet, assessing his sub while Blaine put him down on his futon and started unlacing his shoes.

“You’re really turning me down?” Kurt asked. There was an insecurity in Kurt’s voice that drove hooks into Blaine. It almost reeled him in. Blaine had heard that tone in his own voice, and when it was there, Kurt always took care of him. Blaine had to do the same.

“I’m really turning you down,” Blaine said.

Kurt sniffed, and Blaine braced himself for whatever Kurt’s Dominant side might dish out. But no sooner did Kurt sniff then he smiled, tenderly putting a hand to his sub’s cheek. “You’re a good man, Blaine Anderson.”

“And so are you, Kurt Hummel.” Blaine, kneeling at Kurt’s feet, took his Dom’s hand and kissed his wrist. “The best. So I’m not going to risk losing you.”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Kurt said, resting his cheek on Blaine’s curls. “I don’t think that’s possible.”


	55. Hurt Me So I Won't Hurt Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After something horrible happens, Blaine needs Kurt's help. He needs his Dom's help. But, in the end, even though Kurt means everything to Blaine, Kurt can't give him what he needs.
> 
> Instead, it comes from a slightly unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, again, I apologize that this is not the next chapter. I debated putting this in the drabbles portion because it's a future one-shot in this verse, but I wasn't entirely convinced that people would read it if it was over there, and I worked on this A LOT. It was actually very difficult for me to write. So I want people to read it. And even if you can't kudo it, if you like it, can you put something in the comments? Like a "Hoo-yah!" or something? A heart? A smiley face? Your initials? I am working diligently on the last chapters, but I have a few very intense and important one-shots coming up as well. <3 This was written, incidentally, using all of the Klaine Advent Drabble prompts from this past Christmas.

“Okay, Mr. Anderson, if you would just sign here … and here … and initial here … there you are. Thank you very much.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said, taking his envelope from the delivery man. “Have a nice day.”

“You, too.”

“What is it? What is it? What is it?” Kurt sang, racing in just as Blaine shut the front door. Kurt had been lured to the house all the way from his studio in the backyard by the doorbell. He cut two clients short in his haste, a snafu that Nick was currently in the process of patching up.

But that’s what Kurt paid Nick for - with money, but more importantly, with crepes and cupcakes.

Kurt couldn’t help being excited. He and Blaine had been watching large envelopes arrive at their door day after day for the past few weeks, waiting on the edge of their seats for news of Blaine’s possible star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, or his new recording contract, or his book deal. In reality, those would get passed along to Blaine through his agent, but still, it was always exciting when an important-looking envelope came in the mail.

It was also an indicator to Kurt of just how far he’d come. He could remember a time not too long ago when anyone showing up at the door of his little run-down trailer in San Diego filled him with dread. Between the creditors, the asshole neighbors, and CPS, life seemed to find any opportunity to try and bring him down.

But that wasn’t his life anymore. He and his family had moved forward towards a brighter future, and even though Kurt worked his ass off to get there, it was also due to the persistence of one amazing man - the man joining him on the sofa, tearing into his envelope with the same level of curiosity and excitement as Kurt felt.

Blaine ripped open the top and pulled a thick sheaf of stapled pages out that definitely resembled a contract. Kurt felt his heart race. He didn’t want to read over Blaine’s shoulder, so he watched Blaine’s face for his reaction. That was the best part anyway – Blaine’s expressive face, contorting through stages of happiness. Blaine smiled big at first, but then his jaw went slack, hanging partially open in awe.

“What is it?” Kurt asked, slapping the couch cushion. “Tell me!”

Blaine swallowed hard, his eyes scanning the words he’d just read a second time before he spoke. Then he said the impossible - something that Kurt had hoped to someday hear, but never honestly thought he would.

“It’s … it’s from my dad.”

“Oh, honey! That’s … that’s wonderful!” Kurt said, clapping his hands. That sentence was music to Kurt’s ears - a long sought symphony finally written. After all this time, Blaine’s parents had come to their senses. They’d contacted their son - a few decades late, but as the saying goes, better late than never. Kurt just prayed they didn’t expect some sort of apology from Blaine for leaving home, or for living as his authentic self. Kurt’s compassion where Blaine’s parents was concerned only extended so far.

But not even halfway down the page, Blaine’s smile froze, and Kurt felt his heart shudder.

“No, I … I’m wrong,” Blaine retracted, slowly shaking his head. “It’s … it’s from my dad’s _lawyer_.”

“His _lawyer_?” Kurt yelped indignantly. “Why would his _lawyer_ be contacting you?” There was only one reason Kurt could think that Blaine’s parents would contact him through a lawyer, and if he was right, that made them the lowest of the low. “Are your parents trying to _sue_ you or …?”

“No. No, it’s---it’s a will,” Blaine interrupted. “It’s my father’s will. According to this, he passed away … three months ago.”

Blaine’s voice faltered on those final words. When the period fell at the end of his sentence, the air sucked completely out of the room.

“What!?” Kurt gasped. “But … why didn’t your mother tell you?”

Blaine had already gotten to that part. He cleared his throat, but he almost couldn’t continue. “B-because she passed away. O-over a year ago.”

“Oh my God!” Kurt put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Blaine …” Kurt wanted to comfort him, but he felt dumbstruck. Even with everything Kurt had been through, he couldn’t imagine the devastation Blaine must be feeling. Blaine had held on to hope for so long that his parents would decide to come back into his life, but now that would never happen.

And Blaine didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

“I’m … I’m sorry, Blaine.” Kurt squeezed Blaine’s shoulder, but for the first time in their relationship, Kurt had no idea what else to do. He didn’t know how to help him. He didn’t know what to say. He’d think he would, considering the loss he’d suffered in his life, but nothing came to him. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s …” Blaine was on the cusp of saying that it was alright, except it _wasn’t_ all right. How had it gotten to this point? How did things get so outrageously _not_ right that his father didn’t think it was necessary to tell him that his mother had died? Was she sick? And if so, with what? Blaine didn’t know. Why shouldn’t he be informed? Why didn’t anyone feel the need to invite him to the funeral? There were family friends and neighbors who knew, weren’t there? People who’d watched Blaine grow up, who knew that he was famous, who could have contacted him. Did his parents warn them away? What crime had Blaine honestly committed that it no longer concerned anyone to let him know that his parents were dead?

“What do you need?” Kurt asked when Blaine’s sentence didn’t resolve and he stared off into space like he was searching for the rest of it. “Anything. Whatever you want, just … how can I help you?”

“I …” Blaine got caught on that word and stayed there, lost with his eyes open, clutching the paperwork that had changed everything for him in a matter of a few minutes. He’d heard that life could change in a blink. He believed it, too. His life altered entirely when he came out to his parents, when he got the part on _Sing_ , and then again when he laid eyes on Kurt. But when it came to his parents, Blaine thought he had time. Take time, give them time, they would forget in time, forgive over time – they would come back to him given enough time.

But whatever time he had ran out more than a year ago, and he never even knew it.

“I … need a little time,” he said. “That’s … that’s what I need right now … if that’s okay.”

“Sure. Of course.” Kurt rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “Take as long as you need.”

***

Blaine was numb for the rest of the day. He barely spoke three words, and they were all for Eva. He excused himself early from dinner and locked himself in his and Kurt’s bedroom. Kurt understood. Their house was full nearly 24/7. That was one of the things Kurt loved about it. Family and friends gathered at their dinner table at eight on the dot to eat meals that Kurt made, and Kurt, Blaine, and Dave welcomed them. It reminded Kurt of the Friday night dinners he’d shared with his mom and dad, and for Blaine, it replaced the family gatherings he hadn’t been invited to. But Blaine couldn’t right now. It wasn’t that he didn’t need his family; he needed them more than ever. But he didn’t want an audience for his pain.

Blaine apologized, and explained as best he could without giving too many details. He didn’t want to say anything that might trigger the kids. It came out choppy, stuttered. Thoughts ended without picking up again, but he was still processing. Kurt did his best to ensure that conversation continued to flow after Blaine’s departure - for Blaine, who would hear them if he was listening in; and for the kids, who didn’t need any more solemn dinners - but it wasn’t easy. Everyone at the dinner table felt for Blaine. With him gone, his vacant chair represented every sad event in their lives, every heartbreak.

It was difficult not to get caught up in the sorrow of it.

After dinner, Kurt and Dave cleaned-up the kids and tucked them into their beds. Blaine always lent a hand with Eva, and it was with Eva that his absence was most deeply felt. But Kurt took over the job of brushing her hair, helping her with her jammies, and reading her her favorite story half a dozen times before she yawned and let Kurt go.

Kurt thought that _he_ was the patient one when it came to Eva, but he’d taken for granted the amount of patience Blaine had with her. Even growing up and mellowing out, she was still a handful. She required so much _specific_ attention. Everything in her life needed to be ordered just so, but that never seemed to deter him. He did everything she needed without being asked. Blaine and Eva were as close to soulmates as two people could get. If they weren’t so absolutely adorable together, and if Blaine didn’t confirm daily how in love he was with Kurt, Kurt might feel jealous.

When Kurt joined Blaine, he found his sub dressed for bed, re-reading the documents that had come in the envelope. To think that it had filled them with such joy before they knew the truth, a hope for reconciliation.

It was a goddamned shame.

Along with the will, there had apparently been other papers. Kurt peeked at the pile, hoping one of them would be a letter from Blaine’s parents, something that they might have arranged to have sent to their son after their death. Kurt grasped onto one last shred that there would be closure for Blaine, but no luck. The papers were a deed to a vacation property, a title to a car, a storage agreement, the remains of a bank account, and an IRA. A photograph shuffled in amongst the mix caught Kurt’s attention. He lifted it out, wondering if it was a family photograph, but it looked too recent, and there were no people in it. It was of a house – a single family residence, similar to the one Kurt lived in. He thought that it might actually _be_ his house except that, in the white border, the address had been printed on it.

This house was in Ohio.

“What’s this a picture of?” Kurt asked, climbing under the covers.

“That’s my house,” Blaine said. “Or it _was_. It’s where I grew up, where I lived until I got the role on _Sing_.”

“It looks charming,” Kurt said, snuggling in beside him.

“Yeah, well, it does from the outside. Inside is a different story. Or it was. What the hell do I know? It could look completely different now.” There was a bitterness in Blaine’s voice, one that Kurt knew well. He’d heard it in his own voice right after Finn and Rachel died.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to sell it,” Blaine said in a cut and dry tone that made Kurt shiver, not because of its sadness or its underlying anger, but because of its total lack of emotion.

“And what about their things?”

“I’m going to have them boxed up and put into storage until I can hire someone to go through them.”

“Well, you and I can go through them if you’d like,” Kurt suggested. He knew this was a difficult time for Blaine, but Kurt was eager to do it, take this journey with Blaine into his past. It might help Blaine come to grips with his parents’ death. It might also help Kurt understand more about Blaine than he did. Not that Kurt didn’t know Blaine. He knew Blaine in dozens of unique and intimate ways. He knew him from his words and from his actions, from pictures and videos and yearbooks, from his friends. But you could learn a lot about someone from seeing where they grew up, how they lived. What remained in that house might be a distant shadow of Blaine’s childhood, but Kurt was still intrigued by it.

“I’d … I’d rather not,” Blaine said. “I really don’t need to do it myself. I don’t think there’s anything there that I want. They sent me everything that belonged to me.”

“But, Blaine …” Kurt didn’t want to pressure Blaine, but he was concerned for him. He saw Blaine coming face to face with his past as an important step forward “… it might help if you …”

“Kurt” – Blaine’s harsh use of his Dom’s name sliced through Kurt’s sentence, and Kurt almost jerked away – “do you remember when I showed up at your house in San Diego? You didn’t want me to come in because you said that it wasn’t you, it was just the horrible situation you and your family were in.”

“Yes.”

“That’s the same way I feel about my family home. For a long time that I lived there, I wasn’t me. I was scared and confused, and in the closet without even realizing it, or how far deep. The last year I spent there, my parents … they weren’t the family I knew. They’d already given up on me. I don’t want that house painting a picture for you of a person who doesn’t exist anymore. Can you understand that?”

“Yeah,” Kurt said softly. “I understand.”

Blaine sighed. He put down his papers and turned to his Dom. “I’m … I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to cut you off or snap at you. I just …”

“I get it.” Kurt wound his arms around Blaine’s middle and sank into his sub’s sadness, trying to find a way to lift him out. “I just want to help you through this. I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Blaine slid down the mattress and curled into Kurt’s body, begging Kurt to hold him. And Kurt did. Holding Blaine seemed like the only thing he could do for him.

“Thank you, Sir,” Blaine said. “And if I could think of a way, I’d tell you. But this will pass.” He gathered up the papers with one hand and set them aside. “Once I get over the initial shock, it will fade. I know it will. I’ve been without my parents for a large part of my life. Believe me when I tell you … I’ll get over it.”

“I hope so,” Kurt said, but what he thought was _I’m not so sure_.

“I know I will.” Blaine was trying to reassure Kurt. Kurt felt it ironic. “I’ll be fine. I promise, Sir.”

“Alright,” Kurt said, but he had the nagging feeling that Blaine wouldn’t be.

And sometimes Kurt hated being right.

***

For weeks after, something in Kurt’s beautiful submissive changed, broke loose. He was distant. He didn’t get angry, didn’t get frustrated, didn’t laugh or smile. He would sit in one place and get lost in his thoughts. And he was sad. So incredibly sad. He moved through life like there was a fog around him. He no longer sang to himself. He barely wrote any music. He tried recording, but more times than not he sat on his piano bench with his hands poised over the keys ready to play, but he couldn’t. He was blocked.

Kurt had mentioned to him in passing that maybe he’d feel better if he cried. Kurt hadn’t seen him cry since the day he’d gotten that letter. In Kurt’s opinion, Blaine needed an outburst, something to jolt him out of his funk. Kurt remembered being in a similar state, trying to stay strong for the kids, but he had been denying himself, neglecting his own needs. Once he could surrender to a soul-crushing cry, he was able to move past it. The pain of loss was still with him, but it no longer consumed him. But Blaine repeatedly told Kurt he’d be fine. Give him time. Time healed.

Time would take care of everything.

Kurt worked in his studio as often as possible since Blaine spent his days in his music room. Kurt liked being able to keep an eye on him. Kurt never gave Blaine a schedule to follow. That wasn’t how their dynamic worked. They both had their own jobs, their own hobbies, their own lives, but regardless, they remained in close proximity to one another. It sort of happened on its own. Kurt always knew where Blaine would be and when. But Blaine had started skipping out on breakfast, grabbing a slice of toast, a cup of coffee, and a kiss on the forehead from Eva before he set out, getting to his music room most days before Kurt got to his studio. He wasn’t avoiding Kurt, he was just focused on his work.

Work which, for the moment, wasn’t going well.

They didn’t talk about the will, didn’t talk about the house. It seemed like Blaine had put the whole thing behind him, but he was far from back to normal. One morning, instead of grabbing his slice of toast and heading for the yard, he grabbed his car keys and headed for the front door, which set alarms ringing in Kurt’s head.  

“Blaine?” Kurt put down his spatula, took a pan of eggs off the stove, and chased after him. “Blaine, where are you going?”

“I’m going to my old house,” he said apologetically since he hadn’t given Kurt a heads up that morning, but he had only just decided. “There are some things I have to sort through, and I need to be alone. _Completely_ alone.”

Kurt didn’t like that. He didn’t like Blaine going off to work through his problems without him. That’s what Kurt was there for, both as his lover and his Dominant, to help Blaine in every capacity. But Kurt also knew what it was like to suffer a huge loss, how raw that made you. There were pains that no one could help you with, no matter how much they wanted to try. These were Blaine’s feelings, and they were valid. Kurt had to respect them.

“Alright,” Kurt said. “Just, please, do me one favor.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t get drunk over this. Please? If you need to take out your aggression, take it out with me, but please … don’t do that to yourself. Not when you’ve come so far and made so much progress. It’s not worth it.”

Blaine looked stung, but only for a second. Blaine’s drinking, though not a point of contention during their relationship, had been an issue for a good portion of his adult life. It wasn’t that Kurt didn’t trust him. Kurt had all the faith in the world in him. But Kurt needed Blaine to be safe. If anything happened to Kurt’s sub, to this man that he loved, he would never forgive himself.

Blaine kissed Kurt gently on the lips. “I promise I won’t.”

***

Kurt had gotten so used to Blaine spending time in the studio that he found he couldn’t work with Blaine gone. To make matters worse, it had started raining (even though it was far from winter), and Kurt _loved_ the rain. It was one of the things about being an East coaster that he severely missed when he moved to San Diego. He was usually his most creative when it rained, but most of all, he loved spending rainy days with his sub. The drops pattered musically on the glass-tiled roof. They could look up at the sky while they made love to one another, imagine they were outdoors on the soft, fragrant grass. But Kurt wasn’t with Blaine. He was alone. And he wasn’t making love; he was working – working hard and getting nothing done. When Kurt looked at the gowns he’d finished, all he saw were tacky knock-offs of his other work.

He worried about his sub, wondered how he was dealing.

Blaine had promised not to get drunk over this, but did that mean that maybe he’d have _one_ drink? Two? The rule against Blaine’s drinking to excess had been written into their contract, but it didn’t specify an amount that he could or couldn’t imbibe. The less Blaine drank over time, the more of a lightweight he’d become. Maybe he’d get drunk without even realizing it. Kurt didn’t want to slip into that line of thinking. Blaine was better than that. He wasn’t purposefully self-destructive. He was careful. He wouldn’t do that to himself, to the kids … or to Kurt. But Kurt wanted to check up on him, just to make sure. And it was within Kurt’s scope to do so. It wasn’t a matter of distrust. It was Kurt’s responsibility to take care of Blaine. This fell under that umbrella. Kurt would be fine with Blaine feeling hurt as long as he knew his sub was okay. Kurt pulled out his phone to message him only to find that Blaine had beaten him to it.

_To Kurt:_

_Come over please, Sir. I need you._

By the speed in which Kurt ran to his car and shot over to Blaine’s old house, the casual onlooker might have assumed the place was on fire. Even while trying to be cautious on the wet streets, it took Kurt only a few minutes to get to Blaine’s house. He drove there on autopilot. From the calm nature of Blaine’s text, Kurt didn’t assume he was in danger, and the fact that nothing was misspelled (Blaine didn’t believe in autocorrect) meant that Blaine wasn’t drunk.

But Blaine needed him.  

Kurt had his suspicions as to where Blaine could be, so when he got to the house, he went straight there. He opened the door to the playroom and was struck by the intense quiet. It was so eerily quiet that Kurt had a hard time believing Blaine was even there, but three steps into the room, Kurt found him, undressed, kneeling at the foot of the bed in picture perfect submission. Kurt paused, watching Blaine’s shoulders to check his breathing. He seemed calm. And still. So still, he might have been asleep.

“Blaine?” Step by step he approached his sub, the sound of his footsteps almost too harsh in this space. “Blaine, what’s going on?” Blaine didn’t move. He didn’t answer, and Kurt realized quickly it was because he hadn’t been given permission to. They were in the middle of a scene – _Blaine’s_ scene. Kurt had to decide if he wanted to join in. “You may respond.”

“I needed to be here, Sir,” Blaine said. “It was … necessary.”

“What’s necessary, sweetheart?” Kurt jumped at the chance to do something for him. He wanted to hug Blaine, raise him to his feet and surround him with his love. But Blaine had put himself into this position – came to the playroom and kneeled on his spot on his own. He had possibly been here for hours, texted Kurt from here, his phone on the floor by his knees. But he hadn’t texted Kurt, his lover. He’d texted Kurt, his Dominant. This was what he needed.

So this was what Kurt would give him.

“I need …” Blaine’s lips locked tight around his wants and his needs, the lines blurring as he couldn’t tell one from the other – what was good for him, what was important, what Kurt would be willing to do. “I want you to hurt me, Sir.”

Kurt suddenly felt cold. Cold and sick. Pain had been a part of their relationship from the beginning, but not like this. Not with a heartbroken Blaine kneeling at his feet, asking for it so outright, so plain. Not in that defeated voice. Not the way he looked, like the world had ended, and Blaine needed to find a way to live in the ruins.

“And why do you want me to do this?” Kurt asked.

“Because, you’re right, Sir. I need to get this out of my system. And in order to do that … I need to cry.”

Kurt knelt in front of Blaine. He knew he risked derailing Blaine’s headspace by doing so, but he had to see Blaine’s eyes. Blaine avoided looking directly at him out of respect. Kurt placed a hand to his cheek.

“Are you sure?” he asked, hoping there was another way. They could do a regular scene. They could make love, go for a run, box, go dancing. Anything but this. Kurt had the final say, but he felt like he’d been failing Blaine so far. “Are you sure this is what you need?”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine said. “I’m sure.”

Kurt nodded. He kissed Blaine’s nose, his lips, his chin. “Okay, sweetheart. You stay here. I have to … I have to do something first.”

Kurt stood and walked out of the room, leaving Blaine to continue kneeling. Kurt called Dave, told him he’d need a few hours. Then he went to Blaine’s old office, found a yellow legal pad and a pen, and began writing. He wrote and wrote without stopping. He’d met masochists before in his line of work, and men who wanted to be punished for the sole sake of being punished, but he’d never had to do _this_ before for anybody. He didn’t think it would be easy coming up with a plan for it, but the second the pen hit the paper, the words just came. Without even looking at their contract, Kurt knew exactly what he wanted to write. It took him close to forty minutes to get everything down, then to re-write it to make sure it was clear and left no stones unturned. He went over it a third time, then a fourth. Part of him hoped that agreeing to the idea of this, then leaving Blaine alone to mull over the logistics of it, would be enough, and that when he returned to their playroom, he’d find Blaine on the verge of tears, relieved that he’d found an out. Then all he would need was a stern remark from Kurt to get the tears flowing.

But no such luck. When Kurt returned, he saw Blaine kneeling in the same position as before, staring at the floor, a melancholy resolve on his face. Kurt should have made him kneel on rice to get the ball rolling, except that wasn’t something Kurt had ever made Blaine do before. It was a type of pain Kurt had never had to inflict. Kurt didn’t really punish Blaine. He had before, but there was rarely a need. But this wasn’t punishment, either.

To Kurt, it sounded like torture.

But no more than the way Blaine was already torturing himself.

“Here …” Kurt sat on the mattress beside Blaine where he knelt on the floor “… I drew this up. It’s an addendum to our contract.” Without a word, Blaine put his hand out for a pen. Kurt shook his head. “Blaine, you have to read it before you sign it, or I won’t do this for you.” Kurt had a feeling Blaine wouldn’t read it – out of trust or stubbornness, or simple self-hate. So Kurt read it to him, line after line, about how this was an addendum for this one day, this _one time_ , so that Blaine could get over this hurdle. Kurt went back over their limits, outlined the techniques he would use, swore that he wouldn’t stray into territory considered forbidden. Then he told Blaine to repeat what he’d said, to make sure his sub had heard him and understood. And Blaine, knowing this was his only means to an end, recited it back perfectly.

And yet, Kurt still didn’t want to hand Blaine the pen.

Blaine wasn’t a client. He never was just a client. But then, in essence, that should make this easier. Blaine was in pain. He was begging for Kurt’s help. He needed this, and, to be honest, this wasn’t a hard limit for Kurt. He could do this if Blaine needed him to.

And Blaine needed him to.

Blaine sat quietly, patiently, hand out for the pen, and Kurt gave it, his stomach knotting as he watched Blaine sign on the line without even looking.

“Are you ready?” Kurt asked when that was done.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright then. This session begins now.” Kurt didn’t change his clothes. Mentally, he’d prepared, and he didn’t need armor for this. He wasn’t only Blaine’s Dominant. He was his lover. Armor was just an accessory for them. Besides, if he took the time to change, he might second-guess this whole thing. “Up, princess,” he said, grabbing a handful of Blaine’s hair and bringing him to his feet. “Time to go play.”

Kurt didn’t secure Blaine to his newest toy, his St. Andrew’s Cross, opting instead to do what they’d always done and strap him to the posts on the bed. It gave Blaine less support than the cross, plus it made him vulnerable. There was no place for Blaine to hide when he was strung to the bed, all areas of his body exposed for abuse.

Kurt went for the obvious. He started with physical pain. But Kurt had to find a way to change the game on that one because Blaine was a slut for pain. They both were. He’d bruised Blaine before. He’d made him bleed. But those had always been consequences of play.

Kurt tried to tap as deep into his inner sadist as he could – not just the easily measured cruelty, but down to its heartless core, into the mind of the man who never completely forgave everyone who made his life a living hell … his ex-boyfriend, the cheerleaders, the jocks. That included Dave - the man he had lived with and grown to love had been one of the worst of them all. Kurt pictured the ways Dave tormented him – tossing him into dumpsters, throwing him into lockers, dousing him with Slushies, threatening his life and scaring the shit out of him over a kiss. That kiss burned into Kurt’s brain so hot with its desperation and self-loathing that he never forgot it. Even seeing Dave in the hospital after he’d tried to hang himself couldn’t erase it. And as Kurt started, as he jumped past their usual warm-up and launched into heavy handed paddling, he thought of the ways he swore he’d get back at Dave, the horrible things he’d do, from hacking into the school computer and changing his grades to failing (as if Kurt knew how to hack into a computer) to cutting the break line on his car (which Kurt actually knew how to do).

Kurt thought about his high school boyfriend, Darren, who had broken his heart. Who Kurt had given every one of his firsts to, and who had betrayed him.

Kurt channeled all of that anger, all of that vengeance, into the man he was now, only … he couldn’t use it. He couldn’t. Because he wasn’t the kind of man who could take out on someone else the pain he had endured, especially not someone he loved as much as he loved Blaine. And he wasn’t the kind of Dominant who could unload that amount of hurt onto his submissive.

He needed to find another way.

When one popped into his brain, an extremely obvious one, he wished he had settled on blind hate. It would be less cruel.

Kurt knew every single insecurity that Blaine had. He knew them, and he knew that he could exploit them. Kurt had it in his power to do it, the ammunition he would need to slay Blaine – his body insecurities, his fear of never making it as a musician, his belief that he wasn’t a good enough son to his parents. It was all there. One word, and he could devastate Blaine. Many Dominants might be able to.

But Kurt couldn’t do that, either.

It was one thing having the ammunition.

It was another to know that it should never, ever be used.

So he stuck with physical pain – nipple clips, electro-stim, a flogger he had yet to use because it had metal barbs embedded in the leather straps. He slapped Blaine’s engorged cock and straining balls repeatedly with a stiff leather crop until his twitching body looked like it would bend itself in two. He locked Blaine in a seedpod filled with spiked balls and fisted him, letting his bobbing cock torment itself, but that did nothing.

Kurt went for the slut shaming that he felt comfortable using. He fucked Blaine hard and told him that that would be the only thing his body would ever be good for; called him a princess, a cum slut, and a whore. He said that he’d often wondered how Blaine could let Sebastian and Mia use him, pictured how they’d both made him their bitch and laughed about it behind his back while they fucked each other. Then, after he pretended to cum (because he didn’t. He couldn’t – not like this), he left Blaine there. Left him hanging and alone. Kurt even opened the front door to make it seem like he’d left the house, which he did. He went outside for a breath of air. Then he sat in his car and cried. He let the anger and the tension out, but he had to be careful. He couldn’t drop now. He couldn’t allow himself to, not when Blaine needed him.

Not when Blaine wasn’t in any position to take care of himself, not to mention Kurt.

So he slapped himself in the face, dried his eyes, and went back in for round two.

He gave in and made Blaine kneel on rice while he caned his cock; had him kneel on sandpaper while he made Blaine blow him, crowding in on his face so that he’d have to slide back on his knees across the gritty paper. Kurt made Blaine cum using a prostate wand, then jerked him with a fleshjack until the oversensitivity created a dualism of pure agony bred from pleasure, coupled by the humiliation of being milked dry so clinically.

Kurt pulled out every stop he could think of. By the time they were done, Blaine had more welts, cuts, marks, and bruises than Kurt had ever put on a human body. But in the end, it didn’t work. A full afternoon of grueling punishment, and Kurt couldn’t even produce a sniffle. Nothing Kurt did, unleashing as much of his rage and fury as he dared, seemed to make any impact. It wasn’t Blaine’s fault. It was Kurt’s. Blaine needed him. He needed Kurt’s help. And the one thing that Kurt should have been able to do, he couldn’t. He couldn’t break through that barrier. He couldn’t give Blaine what he needed.

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Blaine shouldn’t be going through this. His parents should have realized what an amazing son they had a while ago. They should have gotten over their pride, accepted the keys to the house, and lived happily ever after, making amends with their son. His father should have called him when his mother died. Blaine shouldn’t be an orphan.

He should have had the chance to say goodbye.

But since he _was_ going through this, he should be with someone who could give him what he needed.

And that person, as much as it killed Kurt, wasn’t Kurt.

Kurt safeworded. He untied Blaine from the bed and helped him shower. He held Blaine against his body and bathed him, kissed him and whispered sweet words of love and encouragement in his ear. He told Blaine how much he loved him, how lucky he was to have him in his life, what a good boy he’d been. Blaine said he loved Kurt, too, but Kurt felt like Blaine wasn’t hearing him. His mind was somewhere else. He could be lingering in subspace, but Kurt wasn’t sure he’d made it there.

Kurt did everything he could to keep Blaine from dropping. Blaine needed rest, but he also needed warmth and comfort. Kurt didn’t feel that Blaine would get that at his old house. So Kurt brought Blaine home. He planned on tucking Blaine into their bed and lying beside him. While Blaine slept, Kurt would try to come up with a solution – some way to make Blaine cry that didn’t include destroying the trust and security they had built up together.

Just inside the front door, Blaine began to shake. Low blood sugar, Kurt thought, from over exertion. Kurt walked Blaine over to the wall outside their bedroom and propped him against it.

“Sit here, love,” Kurt said, pushing gently on Blaine’s shoulder to command him down to the floor. “I’ll go get you a snack, and then … we’ll figure something out. I promise.”

“Alright.” Blaine held Kurt’s hand until the last possible moment, his fingers slipping from his Dom’s grasp, then falling slowly to his lap.

Kurt hurried to the kitchen and searched for something he could bring his sub – a juice box, some crackers and peanut butter, grapes. While he bent inside the refrigerator, the door to the backyard opened and closed, and Kurt heard skipping footsteps travel across the floor.

“Hello, Uncle Blaine,” Eva said in her sing-song way.

“Hello, Daisy,” Blaine replied. Kurt knew Blaine was trying to smile for her. He could hear it in Blaine’s voice.

Kurt abandoned Blaine’s snack and peeked out of the kitchen to watch.

He saw the little girl inch along the wall toward Blaine. She stopped when her foot hit his leg, then slid down and sat beside him, legs spread out in front of her the way his were, both with backs bowed like marionettes.

Eva turned her head and looked sideways at Blaine, trying to see his face.

“Blaine?” Eva frowned. “Are you unhappy?”

“Yes, Daisy,” Blaine said. She held out her arms, and he pulled her into his lap. “I am. But I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sad about your mom and dad?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Blaine replied in a voice so soft, Kurt could barely hear it from where he stood. “I am.”

Kurt saw other questions quirking her lips, but she didn’t ask them. All of a sudden, she said, “Hold on one second.” She scrambled off Blaine’s lap and ran into her room. Kurt thought she would come back with coloring pages, or their favorite book to read, but instead she brought back a framed picture from a collage on her wall. She sat back in Blaine’s lap and held the frame for him to see. “This is my mom and dad,” she explained, pointing to Rachel and Finn. “I don’t really remember them. They’re up in heaven now, and Uncle Kurt says they look over me, but … I don’t know if I believe that.”

Blaine’s face pinched with sadness. There were days when he didn’t believe in a heaven either, but as a child, he always did. It would have hurt too much not to. To hear that from a child, one whose parents had already gone, broke his heart.

“That’s okay,” Blaine said, rubbing her back. “You get to decide what you believe.”

Eva nodded as if she’d always known that. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.” He spoke to her reflection in the glass. The profile of her face overlapped her mother’s. Aside from her hair, they looked so much alike – same sharp noise, same determined chin, same ambitious eyes.

“When I think about them, I get sad, too. But sometimes, I get angry.”

Blaine looked from the photograph to Eva. “Why?”

“Because they died. They went away and left us. They left us and things got bad. I know they didn’t mean to. I know it wasn’t their fault, but sometimes I feel like it is. Does that make any sense?” She tilted her head, her curls bouncing from one side to the other.

Eva’s remarks felt like déjà vu. Blaine remembered Kurt saying something similar the night they spent in the hospital after Eva broke her leg, about how he was so angry at them for dying and leaving him and Dave alone with the kids. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“So, I try to remember the good times. Finn tells me about them. About dancing and singing and tickling and telling jokes. Did you and your folks have any good times like that?”

“Yeah. When I was a lot younger, like you, we did, I guess.”

“You know, I hear you talk to Uncle Kurt about your parents sometimes. You say they stopped loving you, but I don’t think they did.”

“No?”

“No. I think that, maybe, they didn’t know how. And that … it hurt them because they wanted to, but they didn’t understand. Sometimes, when I don’t understand things, it hurts, too. And sometimes, I take that hurt out on other people. I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t know how not to.”

“It’s good that you’re trying.” Blaine wanted to shift the topic of the conversation from the failures of his parents to Eva’s successes. He’d much rather talk about those. But Eva was an intelligent girl. She waited patiently for him to continue, so he did. He didn’t want to insult her. “Sometimes I think that if I was different, they would have loved me better.”

Eva’s eyes popped open in a way that would have made Kurt giggle if she was reacting to anything else. But she looked so sincere, so sad on Blaine’s behalf, his heart coiled. “But you _can’t_ be different. You can only be _you_. And if you weren’t _you_ , you might have done something different with your life, and Uncle Kurt would have never met you. Then _I_ would have never met you. And that would be terrible because I _love_ you.”

“You do?” Blaine cracked a fond smile that made Kurt want to cheer. Leave it to Eva to get through to him.

“A-ha. I love you, more than the whole universe, just the way you are. And you don’t have to change for me. Never ever.”

“Is that right?” Blaine wrapped his arms tighter around her, looking happier than he had in days. Kurt felt relieved. Even if this wasn’t exactly what Blaine needed, it was doing the trick for now.

“A-ha. And do you know what else?”

“What else?”

“It’s alright to be angry at your parents for not knowing how to love you,” Eva said in a soothing voice. “And it’s okay to be sad because they went away. And it’s okay to cry for yourself when someone else dies. Because when people die, they leave pain behind, but the person who has to feel it is you.”

Blaine looked at Eva stunned. He had been ready to smile and thank her, wrap her up in a bear hug, read her a book, and call it a day. He wouldn’t be cured, but he’d be emotionally lighter than before. But what she said just then, that sliver of wisdom that Kurt never imagined a girl her age would be capable of, struck Blaine harder than any of Kurt’s hits, any of the lashes, any of the physical pain Kurt had tried so expertly to inflict. But whereas those blows seemed to bounce off of Blaine’s skin, deflect the way he’d been deflecting everything else for weeks, this one found its mark.

It hit him straight in the heart.

“Oh, Daisy. I …” Blaine’s mouth hung open. He sucked in a few shallow breaths trying to get his mouth to move and his voice to work, but his body wouldn’t let them. There was only one thing he could do.

A second later, Blaine was in tears.

Kurt rushed past the kitchen doorway to help them. Eva had never been very good with crying, or any display of emotion. It hurt her ears, she said. She would put her hands over them and scream to drown out the sound. Crying, laughter, it was the same to her. But she did something to Blaine that caught Kurt by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. Eva was a different girl than she had been before they moved to L.A., so much different from the girl he’d been helping raise the past few years. She wrapped her arms around Blaine’s shaking torso and pulled him into her embrace. She hugged him tight and rocked him, not even minding when his tears soaked her shirt.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, running her fingers through his curls and patting his back with her open, flat palm. “It’s okay. You can cry. I understand. I understand, and I love you.”


End file.
